Cuddling

by Allan, S. H.

  My mom was right about that too. Go figure.

  So, I want you all to be proud of me. I didn’t go rushing back to finish having it out with Joel. I didn’t even torture Joel by making him wait all day before I returned his numerous messages on my phone. I was actually a grown-up, at least for a few hours, and I called him and told him I wanted to get together at our place for dinner after work. Then I took a mental health day off from my own office job and spent the rest of the day in quiet contemplation about everything I had said and everything that had been said to me.

  Of course, I had to put on my best pair of yoga pants, take two classes at the studio, and spend a couple of hours in the Zen rock gardens with my favorite soy latte to get in the right mindset. But I got there, eventually, and the new and improved Michael was ready to set another scene for Joel by five o’clock that night… after some extensive last-minute shopping for props.

  III.

  THERE I was again, sitting in the dark, waiting for Joel… at least until I lit the tapers on our dining room table and a few more candles scattered about the living room and bedroom. Everything was set for the evening I had planned. The tablecloth was pressed, the wine was on ice, and the casserole was in the oven. There were a few other surprises in store for Joel as well, but we’ll get to those in a little bit.

  My heart leaped in my chest once again when I heard Joel’s key in the lock, but it was a good feeling that time. Our night was going to be great. I’d made sure of it.

  Joel’s eyes sought me out the second he walked in the door. When he spotted the candles and me standing next to the romantically set table, he smiled, and some of the creases marring his forehead eased. He dropped his briefcase and tossed his keys toward the table as he rushed across the room and wrapped me up in a bear hug.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered into my ear before he kissed it and buried his face in my hair.

  I started to get a little choked up, and that simply would not do. I pushed at his shoulders until he eased up a little and said, “No more of that tonight. If you really want to show me you’re sorry, you’ll stay quiet and enjoy the evening I have planned for you. We can talk about all the rest of it tomorrow, okay?”

  Joel looked puzzled, but he nodded. “Okay, baby. Anything you want.”

  I grinned and arched a brow. “Anything?”

  To my relief and joy, Joel’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he grinned right back at me. “Yeah. Anything.”

  “Good. Then you’ll sit right down here and eat a little something for me.” I pulled out the chair in front of me and waved Joel into it before going to get my casserole out of the oven. When I got back to the table, I figured Joel must have noticed there was only one place setting, because he looked confused again. I just smiled and put a large serving of the casserole on the plate. After clicking the remote to turn on the stereo, I removed my navy-blue “Actors speak louder than words” apron and sat down at the end of the table, facing him.

  “Open wide,” I said, loading up a fork and offering it to him as Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Memory” wafted from the speakers.

  He lifted an eyebrow at me but did as he was told, chewing and swallowing the bite I gave him while I fed myself.

  “Tuna?” he asked.

  I smiled. “Mmhmm. Do you like it?”

  “It’s great, baby. I just don’t think you’ve ever made a tuna casserole for me before.”

  I smirked. “I know. I have all kinds of surprises waiting for you, so shut up and eat.”

  He laughed and accepted the next bite I offered him. Every time he tried to speak, I shoved food in his mouth until he got the hint that I really didn’t want to talk, and we finished the plate and a glass of wine each in silence.

  When the plate was empty, Joel lifted his eyebrows and waited like a good boy to see what was next. I knew he’d play along. And he knew if he put himself in my hands and went along with whatever crazy scheme I’d come up with this time, he’d be rewarded in the end. It had always been that way for us, but I hadn’t spent anywhere near enough of my energy on my man lately. I’d finally realized that, and I was going to do my best to change it, starting that night.

  I stood up and reached out a hand to him. His eyes were a bit damp when he wrapped his big hand around mine and rose to his feet, but I blamed it on the candlelight. Otherwise, I would have started crying, and that would have just been silly.

  “I want you to take the dishes and the food into the kitchen. And when you’re done, I want you to get undressed and meet me in the bathroom, okay?”

  Joel nodded and pulled me to him for a quick kiss before letting me go and gathering the plate and glasses. I didn’t stay to watch. I had things to do.

  By the time Joel joined me in the bathroom, the tub was nearing half-full and the air was fragrant with scented oil and candles. He walked in, not in the least self-conscious about the fact that he was completely and gloriously nude. Of course, with a body like his, what did he have to be self-conscious about? I could spend days just looking at him naked.

  “Babe, why do we have a tiger-fur bedspread?” Joel asked as he crossed the floor and stood next to the tub.

  “Don’t you worry about that. Just shut up and climb in the tub.”

  He smiled indulgently at me and rolled his eyes as he stepped over the edge, easing himself into the warm water with a sigh.

  “Now close your eyes and just relax and enjoy,” I said as I shut off the water and puttered around picking up the things I was going to need.

  I put a towel on the floor and knelt down on it as I filled a cup with bathwater and poured it over Joel’s head. When his hair was good and wet, I massaged shampoo into it, luxuriating in the feel of it and the sound of his voice as he groaned in pleasure. When I was done rinsing it clean and conditioning it, I set to work with a washcloth and scented soap, caressing every inch of his body until Joel’s always impressive erection arched up to meet his belly button. He reached for me then, but I dodged away and searched for the little vial of oil I’d used to scent the water, adding a little more to the bath to chase the scent of the soap away.

  Joel sniffed. “What is that?”

  “Lemongrass. I wanted to buy the catnip essential oil, but the sales guy said the lemongrass would be a better idea.”

  “Catnip? Baby, what…?”

  I put a finger to his lips and gave him a quick kiss before getting up and grabbing a towel. “Nope. No talking, remember? Now dry off and meet me in the bedroom.”

  Joel gave me a bemused smile and shook his head before taking the towel and climbing out of the tub. When he met me in the bedroom, I told him to lay his hot body down on the bed, facedown. He tried to reach for me again, but I swatted his hands away and scrambled backward until my back hit the dresser. When he kept coming at me, I finally had to resort to threatening him with the purple fluffy feather-tipped whip I was saving for later in the evening. He backed down then and flopped onto the bed. But I think it was my pout over my surprise being spoiled more than the threat of the whip that did it.

  I started to undress then, but Joel was watching me from his spot on the bed, his head pillowed on his arms, and I got a little self-conscious. There was no hope for it, though. Once again, I’d set the scene, so I had to keep going, kicking off my shoes and socks, pulling off my polo, and dropping my trousers to the floor. I did blow out a couple of the candles I had lit, but apparently Joel could still see just fine, because his eyes widened when my new fancy undies were revealed.

  To his credit, he didn’t laugh as I walked to the bed in my leopard-print boxer briefs. In fact, he looked almost as turned on as he was amused. There’d been a leopard- print thong at the shop too, but I wasn’t going to go there, not even for Joel. I would have had to blow out all the candles to walk across the room in that thing, and then I wouldn’t have been able to see Joel in all his glory waiting for me.

  I reached under the bed for my last surprise before I climbed onto the mattress a
nd straddled his hips. He wiggled his ass a bit under me, rubbing my cock across his exceptionally firm glutes until I had to give them a firm swat to get him to stop. He peered cheekily over his shoulder at me, completely unrepentant.

  “Close your eyes and put your head down,” I ordered sternly, “or you don’t get the last surprise.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, okay.”

  When I was sure his eyes were closed, I opened the box, pulled on the fuzzy mittens I’d bought, and started smoothing my hands over his broad back as Tom Jones’s husky baritone belted out “What’s New Pussycat” from the living room.

  Joel let out a noise that seemed to be caught between a laugh and a moan, but eventually the moan won. “Oh my God, Michael. What are those things?”

  I grinned. “Mink massage mittens. You like?”

  “I’d start purring if I didn’t think it would ruin the mood.”

  I kept running my hands over him in sensual circles. “But that’s the point, my love. I want you to purr if that’s what you want to do. I’m trying to meet you halfway.”

  Joel sighed and rolled over, grabbing my wrists and holding my mittened hands to his chest. “I know what you’re trying to do, babe, and I love you so much for it. I can’t even tell you what I’m feeling right now. The catnip, the music, dinner, and the fur blanket… not to mention those sexy undies of yours, which are just… damn.” He shook his head and reached for me, pulled me all the way down onto his chest, and wrapped me tight in his arms. “I love you, Michael. I should have told you about the furry thing a long time ago. But, after I met you, things were so great that I didn’t mind walking away from all that for a while. It was just recently that everything got really stressful. And when I saw an opportunity to let loose, I took it.” He cupped my chin and lifted my face until he could look in my eyes, and the warmth and love I saw there made me want to cry. “I appreciate what you’ve done here, but being a furry isn’t really about sex for me. It’s more about living in the moment and pretending to be someone completely carefree and simple for a while, if that makes any sense. When I think about sex, it’s you and only you, babe. I promise.”

  I kissed him then because I didn’t have any words, and Joel didn’t waste any time ridding me of my mittens and my fancy new leopard undies.

  Naked and so hot for each other I’m surprised the bed didn’t catch fire, we made love like animals for the rest of the night. When Joel pressed inside me that first time, we were both on our knees, my back to his chest. Joel’s arms were wrapped so tightly around me, I felt completely surrounded and filled by him until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.

  Angels wept.

  The new tiger-fur bedspread needed to go to the cleaners after our little lovemaking marathon, but I didn’t mind. We’d only be breaking it out on special occasions anyway, since it clashed horribly with the rest of our décor. But I have to admit, rolling around on all that fuzzy softness was kind of luxuriant and sexy. It almost made me want to try fucking Joel in his costume… almost. I still couldn’t quite get over the giant grinning foam head.

  For now, though, I decided to just let him go to his cons every now and again to scratch that, uh, furry itch—as long as he promised to keep it zipped up in his fuzzy bodysuit, that is.

  And I definitely had a “no strays” policy for the condo.

  ROWAN MCALLISTER quit her day job in 2007 and moved to her dream home in the woods of Virginia to follow her muses and explore her creative side full time. She’s a firm believer in practical romanticism, requires a strong cup of coffee every morning to be even remotely human, and has a healthy obsession with romance and fantasy fiction, small (and not so small) furry creatures, and anything to do with working with her hands. She can be found most days either hunched over her sewing machine or hunched over her laptop. Though she has spent a lifetime making up stories in her head when whatever task she was occupied with failed to keep her full attention, she only recently discovered the challenge and reward to be found in committing those stories to paper. Now that she has, there's no going back.

  Contact Rowan at rowanmcallister10@gmail.com.

  Like an Old Sweater

  Elizabella Gold

  I.

  “KEYS, keys, keys. I put them here somewhere….”

  “Did you check your pocket, Ethan?” Jeff called. He tilted his chin up and checked in the mirror to be sure he’d gotten rid of the stubble. He glanced into the hallway and smirked as he watched his boyfriend bumble around.

  “Oh.” Ethan dug into his jacket pocket and produced the jangling ring of keys. “Thanks, babe.”

  “No problem.” Jeff hurried over to Ethan and kissed him on the cheek. “When will you be back?”

  “Well.” Ethan frowned. “I’m hoping to get home around six. But it’s possible I’ll be later than that.”

  “Uh-huh. Should I just assume you will be? Later, that is.”

  Ethan tapped his chin and jiggled his keys. “Yeah, probably. Sorry. I’ll definitely try to make it home for a late dinner, though.”

  Jeff’s lips tightened; then he smiled. “That’s okay. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.”

  “Hey, you know I’d rather spend time at home with you,” Ethan said, wrapping his arms around Jeff’s waist and nuzzling his neck. “But I’ve got to go to that conference, and then do the book signing, and—”

  “I know. It’s okay. I’ll see you later.” Jeff kissed him quickly on the mouth.

  “Hmm. You need to brush your teeth.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Jeff rolled his eyes.

  “You should do that before shaving. I always tell you that. The toothpaste might sting any little cuts you have if you get some on your face.” Ethan shook his head.

  Jeff put his hand to his heart. “I’m touched by your concern, my love. It will serve me well for the rest of my days.”

  “As will your gratitude for me and my wisdom, darling. Okay, I’m going. See ya!” Ethan grazed Jeff’s head with a kiss and darted down the hall and out the front door.

  Jeff smiled to himself, then began brushing his teeth. When a little bit of the toothpaste got onto his skin, it did sting a little. He shook his head. Next time, learn from the master, Jeff.

  “HEY, uh, has this liberry got that, uh, movie about… uh, there was some kind of monster in it.” The man frowned, then belched. “A vampire, maybe? Or a werewolf. That’s all I remember.”

  Jeff winced but forced out a smile. “I’m afraid if you can’t give me more details about it, then I’m not sure which one you mean. There are a lot of movies with vampires and werewolves. We have a horror movie section right over there if you want to check it out. Maybe you can find what you’re looking for there. Or something else you might like to see.” He pointed to the shelf several feet away.

  “Huh. Some help you are,” the guy mumbled and waddled over to the horror movie section.

  Jeff leaned against the counter and sighed. If the guy said squid movies or piranha movies, I’d be in a much better spot to help him.

  He heard the front doors open, and when he glanced to see who had come in the library, his breath froze in his throat.

  It was him again. The man who somehow made Jeff’s stomach flutter even though he looked nothing like Jeff’s dream guy—who was supposed to be Ethan. He had short, spiky blond hair, light-blue eyes, and a seemingly permanent tan. Jeff never tanned. Ethan didn’t either.

  “Hi.” The guy smiled at Jeff, walked up to the desk, and leaned against the counter. “You’re always working. Don’t you ever get any time off?”

  Jeff tried not to grin like a goofball. He shrugged. “Eh, it’s not so bad. I work full-time. Nothing more, nothing less. Well. Generally.”

  “Mm.” The guy drummed his fingertips on the countertop. “Still, it must be hard, dealing with people who just want to take advantage of all the free stuff you guys have here. I’ve seen some of the people giving you a hard time. It sucks, man.”

  Jeff n
odded, but his mind went back to Ethan. Ethan had sympathized with his complaining about unruly or demanding patrons, but would sometimes argue that he had it worse, because his readers had paid money—most of the time—to read his books, except for his blog, of course, which was free, and thus they expected more from him.

  He cleared his throat. “So, ah, can I help you with anything?”

  The guy’s brow furrowed for a second. Then he opened his backpack and got out a couple of books. He set them on the counter. “I just wanted to return these. I think they’re a little late.”

  “Oh, okay, no problem.” Jeff scanned the books and set them on the return shelf. He headed back to the computer and peered at the screen. Hmm. So the guy’s name was Timothy Wallace. Probably went by Tim. That suited him. “It’s fifty cents.”

  “Darn. Well, library fines are the cheapest things I’ve come across lately, so I guess I’ll pay it.” Timothy grinned and handed Jeff a couple of quarters. Their hands touched briefly, and Jeff tried to hold back the shiver of warmth that sparked inside him.

  Get a hold of yourself. He’s a patron, he’s probably just being friendly, and hey, buddy, you’ve been in a relationship for seven years. Remember your boyfriend?