By J.L. Atwood
Late, late, late! It was the story of my life; I have never been great about getting up in the morning. Lazy, I'd been dubbed, but I had the tendency to want to sleep myself out. Since we mated, Blue's morning schedule has been the meter by which I ran my life. I got up with hir, ate with hir, and drove with hir in to work. Shi'd been gone for the past month to hir parents, taking a summer holiday with our cub before school began in the Fall. I couldn't go; work was too busy and they couldn't do without me for a whole month, but I had visited over a long weekend before hurrying back to the grind. And, since shi'd been gone I'd been finding my schedule going to back to it's old chaotic ways.
Take this morning, for example. It had been a disaster. I woke up to the screeching alarm, and as usual I gave it a swat to turn it off. After that, details came fuzzily as I wallowed in my still-warm nest. Last night's dreams had been rather vivid, and had contained an unusually high amount of erotic content... not too surprising, considering Blue'd been gone three weeks and I was coming up fast on my male heat. My female had been spent at hir parents, with hir parents taking Sweet for the day. So, I rolled onto my back and sent my forehands downwards, seeking to take care of the morning wood. Yes, I was quite hard, and sensitive. Usually our forehands tend to be rough from being walked on, but my desk job and habit of wearing 'socks' to work left mine smoother and perfect for the job. In fact, Blue found my 'talented toes' quite amusing, especially when I slipped in a 'feel'. I was imagining just that, in fact -- mounting my beautiful Blue and giving hir a thorough banging from behind while shi came all over my industrious forehands -- when I happened to crack an eye and actually look at the clock and felt my blood go cold. The time! I'd slept through two alarms, and I was supposed to be out the door in five minutes! For a moment I stopped and regarded my erect member, and considered being late (again!), but then I groaned and rolled out of bed and waddled to the closet.
By the time I'd shrugged into my clothing and gotten my teeth brushed, my shaft had mostly retreated into its sheath, but still felt swollen. It was protesting this treatment, you can be sure. The train ride to work had been interesting, to be sure; I had to sit with my forelegs pressed together, shielding the view. Standing was fine, since it's mostly hidden by thick fur and the sweep of my hindlegs, but when I sat the fact that the head was still poking out of the sheath was rather obvious. My shaft is pink, and my belly fur is white. I found myself more fascinated than usual by the bipedal femmes, and a few moments of daydreaming only caused the problem to get worse!
When I got to the office I was rather frustrated and hoping for just five minutes alone in my office to take care of this. Just five minutes. But, this was not to be. As I walked in, my co-worker Ray flagged me down.
"Your secretary said she wasn't able to get a message to you; John called a meeting for this morning. It starts in 5 minutes." I gave a mental groan of frustration, and followed him to the meeting room where I sat through three hours of dry technical data and lots of complaining. My mind wasn't on the meeting; it was rather distracted by the raw line of sensation running along the base of my belly. It felt like I was waving in the wind, but a few idle scratches to my tummy revealed only a slight swelling that distended my sheath.
I was finally able to escape the meeting at close to noon, when everyone broke for lunch. I took the elevator to my office floor, and then entered the common room I and my team-mates shared. Along with the room, we also shared a secretary. She was a vixen fox named Sandra, and she was very capable, very professional, and we depended on her heavily. She was also not here, being in the last weeks of pregnancy. Triplets, I believe. We had, instead, Megan. Megan was in her early 20's, another vixen, and on summer break from University. She'd fill in for Sandra during this summer, after which Sandra would come back and Megan would go back to school. Sandra had walked Megan through the last two weeks, training her carefully so that there was a seamless transition. Monday, Megan had flown on her own. It had been less than seamless. So much so, that Sandra had been stopping by and checking in for a few hours each day, making sure that 'her boys' were ok. I wasn't a full 'boy', but that was the running joke.
Don't get me wrong, Megan wasn't bad. She was just new, and faced with four folks used to having things done a certain way. We tried to go easy on her, but at times it was rather hard. As I walked in, Megan came from behind her desk and met me. The first thing she did was embrace me in a chakat-style greeting. That was one thing Sandra had taught her well, and after getting over the initial awkwardness of it she took to it like a duck to water. The second thing she did was apologize for the lack of information in regards to the meeting. Behind me the door opened, and 'The Sandwich Guy' appeared with our lunches. My co-workers, with their supernatural food-location sense, materialized to collect their food and then disappeared back into their offices almost as quickly as they appeared. My own lunch was a good deal larger than my bipedal co-workers; three sandwiches and a large salad, plus two cartons of juice. Balancing the tray, I made my way to my office.
On the delivery-boy's heels I heard Sandra's cheery greeting. She calls a hello to me through my open door, and I return it. Leaving sanctuary behind, I exit my office once more to greet my very pregnant ex-secretary. This was her second pregnancy, and she'd been very supportive while I was carrying Sweetwind, so now I returned the favor. We hugged and embraced, and I admired her swollen stomach; the poor dear looked like she was about to explode! So round, and not even four feet to carry her along.
"Only two weeks until they're due, eh?" I purred, tilting my head to listen at the curve of her belly. There was a bit of movement under my cheek, then something thumped against my ear.
"Yes, thank the makers. They've been keeping me up all hours. Never a busier litter have I carried." I chuckle, and my stomach gives a gurgle. Shooed off, I make for my lunch.
I worked my way through my meal slowly, checking my messages and replying as need be. One message I left for last, when I could take my time and read through it. It was from Blue, and it contained pictures of Sweet and Blue's parents at the beach. There was a good deal of white space at the bottom of the message, followed by the simple line:
'Thinking of you.'
Below that, another picture was attached. Blue, on hir back, in nothing more than the smoky blue-grey fur shi was born in. Hir hands cup hir breasts and hir forehands flatten the fur flat around the root of hir shaft, showing a proud spike of pink. Looking at it made my mouth water, and I lingered almost too long. Only Megan's habit of starting a sentence just as she got in earshot alerted me in time to close the message. My desk faces the door, and I was glad the front panel was floor-length, or else Megan would have found herself an eyeful.
Megan laid the papers on my desk and headed back out; my door is usually open and folks wander in and out freely. Usually, this suits me just fine. Now, I had to get around the desk to close the door. As I was about to do so, Megan headed back towards me with more papers and I turned my lurch into a reach. I smiled pleasantly at her as I noticed the printer chattering away. Beneath my desk, my forehand cupped my aching shaft and rubbed it fitfully, the skin taunt and the tip quite smooth. There's a reason I usually ask for the days surrounding my heats off; too much sex on the brain. The same business need that kept me from vacation had kept me in the office this round, and I can't say I enjoyed the situation. I'd much rather be pinning my beloved Blue to the pillows of our bedroom, and slowly ravage hir...
Megan's return broke that line of thought, as she required my attentions to get some papers signed. After she'd presented the last of the papers, she made some cheery comment; I don't remember really what she said but it was something inanely friendly. My patience was wearing thin; my shaft was screaming to finish, and all I needed was about two minutes to reach nirvana and then I could bide through the rest of the afternoon. I must have snapped at her, since she turned to leave rather quickly. I felt bad rather instantly, but walking out to reassure her with a screaming hardon probably wouldn't be interpreted right.
I still ached, but now I felt like a jerk. Megan had been only trying to do her job, and I'd nearly taken her head off. I'm not the most empathic of chakats, but there was enough frustration and embarrassment radiating from the common room to kill anyone's mood. After a moment, Sandra escorted an embarrassed-looking Megan back to my office and quietly shut the door.
"Megan, here, just tried to tender me her resignation." Sandra informed me in a quiet voice. "She seems to feel she's making a mess of things, and that you and the rest don't like her."
"I'm sorry, Shir Blackthorne. I thought I had everything right last week, but this week it's just gone so wrong..." I waved my hands, trying to cut off her apology.
"First of all," I stated firmly, "This week has been a mess for all of us. Things are going wrong everywhere... it's not just you. Unfortunately, you started at a time when we could have used Sandra's experience. Sandra, bless her heart, has been trying to help but she can't do her role full-time, so we have to make do with some newbie... and better a newbie with two-weeks training by a pro than no training at all. You're not doing all that bad, considering." Megan seemed to take this as dubious praise, and I looked at Sandra for help only to get an arched eyebrow and a 'go on' shoo of the hand.
"And I didn't mean to snap at you... you just caught me by surprise. It's been a very trying day." Very trying. Once again I was glad for the full-length desk. My hardon still hadn't lost any of its enthusiasm. "I'm sorry." Megan broke a smile at that, and looked towards Sandra. Sandra patted her shoulder.
"Blackthorne, there's something I haven't told you or any of the boys. Megan here isn't just a college student. She's my eldest niece. I didn't want you going any easier on her just because she was a relative of mine." This caught be a bit by surprise; I had noted the similarities, but hadn't wanted to say anything lest I get accused of thinking all foxes looked alike. After all, if Megan had been a relative, Sandra would have told us... or so I thought. I understood why she hadn't, however.
"And," she continued, "I've not only taught her company policy and how to file, but also about chakats, as I'm sure you've noticed." I nodded since I had noticed; Megan had taken on many of Sandra's charming little habits that made my life as a herm and a quadruped much easier. "But not only that, I've also shown her most of the little things I used to do for you... that is, before some things got in the way." She patted her bulging middle, and gave a small smile. I blinked a little. I had expected her to educate Megan, but not go into that kind of... depth. I glanced at Megan, who was looking a bit confused at this exchange. Sandra smiled at her and brought out her scheduler/minicomp. A few taps of the stylus, and she handed it to her niece as she turned towards the door. She gave me a smile, and closed the door.
Megan glanced down at the minicomp, and I watched her eyes open a shade wider. Then she looked at me, then at the screen one more time. I myself had never laid hands on Sandra's Holy Book of Time Management. The secrets there-in had remained a mystery to me for years.
"Oh." She said, "Oh..." Was that a flush she had to her ears? She laid the organizer on the desk, face up. Displayed on a screen was a calendar, labeled 'Care and Feeding of a Chakat'. I could see Blue's vacation neatly marked, and there was my trip out to them, including my times in and out of the office and my appointments. However, in bright red highlighting the alternating dates of my two cycles' peaks were clearly marked, one of which was starting today. Somehow, I found this both flattering and embarrassing after a fashion. That would explain how Sandra always knew...
While I'd been distracted, Megan had been wandering round the office and as I returned my attention to her once more, she met my gaze clearly.
"My aunt... told me some stories."
"I can imagine." I dryly replied. I couldn't help wonder what ones. Sandra had been my secretary from before I met Blue, and before she met her husband. There were many stories she could tell, and not all of them old.
"I was wondering if they were true..."
"Most likely. Your aunt isn't one to lie or embellish."
"You and she... in here?"
"How many times?"
"Jeez, I don't know. For a while, several times a month, until she got mated."
"Do you still...?"
"We've got limits, now. Especially since she got pregnant." With each of my answer, I saw the flush deepen through the thinner fur lining her ears. She had worked her way around to the side of my desk. All this discussion of my past adventures had done nothing to soften my shaft. In fact, the exact opposite.
"Do you st--"
"Megan." I state flatly, "If your aunt has told you about chakats, you must understand what's happening right now. I just need five minutes alone, and then I'll be back to my normal, cheerful self. So, if you don't mind, please just let me have it? I'm not trying to be mean, but I'm about to explode out of sheer frustration." I watched her swallow, and for a moment I thought she was going to cry. Then she stepped around the desk, reached out to hug me... and then she tried to kiss me. It takes a moment for me to respond out of sheer shock, but when her hands landed on my breasts and found the too-erect nipples shoving up at the fabric, my mouth closed on hers with a growl. The kiss was long and strong, if not terribly organized. It was interrupted by shirts being upbuttoned, only to recollide abruptly. My suit jacket and shirt were my only clothing, but hers was much harder to shed, taking more coordination.
"Megan..." I groaned as I tried to figure out how these silly underpant-things worked. Silly inventions. "You don't have to... it's not a job requirement -- oh my..." The last I uttered as I managed to get those garments off, and returned my hand to cup her pussy... only to have the fingers slip easily within the lips, she was that slick. That flush hadn't been embarrassment... it had been arousal.
"Hush. My aunt told me these stories a week before I even applied. I've been fantasizing about this for the last month! Now, unless you have other objections..." That last word fluttered a little as I slipped a finger upwards and stroked her slippery clit. I guess she took the meaning of that gesture the right way, since she started clearing a space on the desktop.
"Next time, we do this a bit slower. I'm not usually this... eager." She just laughed at me as she slid up onto the desk, and then grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me forwards. Another one of those kisses ensued, until she pushed me back and jerked her chin upwards. Taking my cue, I rear back and place my forehands on the desk to either side of her hips, walking my way forward until my shaft was well within range. Instead of simply letting me mount, she leaned forward to meet me and caught my shaft in her hands. She murmured over it, wordlessly but admiring in tone. I'm not impressive for a chakat, but compared to bipeds I'm a bit longer than the average and about half again as thick. Her hands felt amazingly good, but when she licked the shaft with her smooth tongue I felt like I was in heaven. She had me trembling by the time she'd made less then a dozen passes, and she was laughing at my responses. I think she was rather delighted by the strength of my arousal.
She lay back and pressed the angle of my shaft downwards, her legs splayed to either side of my hips, above my haunches. I dropped my hips a little, murmuring a little as my head was surrounded by soft, sweet flesh. I pushed forward eagerly, taking her in a single deep stroke. She gasped as the shaft filled her, and for a moment I thought I'd hurt her and stopped only to have her clench down on the shaft and groan.
"You're so thick..." Megan groaned, and pushed at my ribcage as if to throw me off. It would have been a complaint if her tone hadn't been rather husky. I needed no further encouragement, and so backed out to return again. She writhed beneath me, her head between my forehands. It had been a long time since I'd been with a biped; my first and only was Sandra, and as I said we have limits, once that included sex like this. Our love life had gotten much more mellow since she had gotten mated. Still, the differences in anatomy and angle, combined with my acute sensitivity, had me gripping the far edge of the desk in my forehands. It felt like my shaft was encased in warm silk, caressing and sliding over it, combined with undulating pressure. I was trying to distance myself from the pleasure in order to last longer when she began to strain, whining thinly as her walls clamped down on my shaft. Thrusting through this erratic tightness sent waves of sensation flooding up my length into the core of me, and my control slipped. I felt myself crash headlong towards orgasm. The last few strokes were electric, and I knew my shaft had just swollen slightly around the head and had gotten rock hard... I was familiar with the sensation of a male getting ready to spill, that delicious hardness that touches just the right spot. I felt my first twinge as I rocked forward, just as Megan clenched with her arms and legs and her tunnel began to shiver around my cocktip. I stroked short and sharply, emptying my load in short hard bursts within her.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, followed by euphoria and relief. I rested where I was a moment, my shaft still pinned inside Megan. Her tunnel twitched and spasmed around me, and occasionally she would arch and shudder. When I looked down, her face was a mirror for my feelings.
"Damn..." I sighed.
"...I really needed that." She sighed and stretched, the picture of afterglow. With a frown, she writhed a little and I tried to move with her as she reached under her hips. She extracted from beneath her a swatch of papers that hadn't quite made it to safety. It was now splattered with a combination of both of our fluids.
"Somehow, I don't think that would be good to file."
"I'll be sure to get a fresh copy on your desk, Shir Blackthorne. But only if you promise not to cum on it next time."
"Me cum on it? You came on it..." And as such, a new lover is made. Still, I can't help but wonder who trained who, and if Blue would like an introduction...
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