Vixenscratch

Short stories and serials by Alexandra Herakai

Can I Buy You a Drink?

 She had just been leaving the dance floor for a glass of water; she’d spent enough time in the hot, just-this-side-of-crowded club for her shirt to sport a damp shadow below her breasts, and a few stray strands of brightly colored hair were plastered against her forehead. It was pure chance that she’d notice the odd halfbreed at the bar, easily identifiable as a mix of wyvern and raev, but once she’d taken note of him, her eyes wandered. It wasn’t something she did often, but she could quite easily see herself picking that one up.

She adjusted her pace, made sure there was some free space next to him as she reached the bar. He seemed to be finishing his bottle of beer, and she flashed him a smile as she slipped into that space, leaning an elbow on the bar.

“Evening. Can I buy you a drink?”

He chuckled, his oddly mostly furless muzzle splitting in a smile of his own. “Am I not the one supposed to be asking you that?”

“I guess I beat you to it. Another one of those?” She nodded towards his empty bottle, and recieved a nod in return. Fishing a few bills and her driver’s license from a pocket she got the bartender’s attention. Forget the water, she wanted to stay a while and chat to that man. “A glass of bourbon for me and another beer for the gentleman, please, love.”

The troll cast a quick glance on her license, served them and took her money, grinning when she refused her change. If there was one thing she’d learned from her brother, it was to tip generously. She leaned on the bar, sipping her whiskey slowly, watching the half-fox pour beer into his glass and half-suck, half-lap it into his mouth.

“Come here often?” she asked, knowing it was a lame question.

“I’m just in town for a couple of days for work,” was his reply. “Though… If I’m lucky it could become more often.”

“Lucky?” She smiled at him again, trying to flirt and not being quite sure where to start.

“Hoping for a transfer, but I’m not sure how good of an impression I made on my prospective boss.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what response she’d hoped for — she’d only just met the guy, for crying out loud, and she wasn’t looking for anything long-term anyway — but that hadn’t been it.

“Not that there haven’t turned out to be other advantages to this city,” he added, and she felt ashamed when she realized she hoped that comment referred at least a little bit to present company.

“Mmmh.” She sipped her drink. “Where are you from, then?”

“Right now, I live in World’s End.”

“That’s quite a way to move.”

“Change is a good thing. Lets you see new things, meet new people…” He emptied his glass, and emptied the bottle in it. “How about you, m’am?”

“Aretta. I grew up in Loch Lyeon, a little town north along the river. My older brother went to school here so I followed him.” A smile. “City life isn’t half bad. People make a lot less gossip.”

“Call me Alej, then.”

They both nursed their drinks in silence, then, though she wasn’t making a secret of stydying him. Rather than having several separate tails, like a raev would, his tail, covered in glossy red fur, was forked into three furless tips. Along with the characteristic bone comb on his head and the sickle-claws adorning his feet, those were the most obvious signs that he had wyvern blood running in his veins. He was wearing dress pants which left a bit more than she would have liked to the imagination, along with a halfway unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt.

And he had a very nice ass.

“Alej.” She waited the second it took her to be sure she had his attention. “Dance with me?”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” He gestured towards his feet, then towards the crowded dance floor. “I’d end up slashing someone’s feet.”

“Most people here are wearing boots,” she pointed out, setting down her glass on the counter without quite finishing her drink, then leaning closer, almost into his face. “Come dance with me.”

She wasn’t expecting him to slide off his bar stool on her side, but she certainly didn’t mind the proximity. He touched her chin, turned her face towards him, barely brushing his lips against hers, sending a shiver down her spine.

“You like turning things around, don’t you, Aretta?” Once again, his lips touched hers, just for a heartbeat. “Here I thought it was my place to be the one trying to pick you up.”

“I guess,” she breathed, her heart pounding as she seized his hand, “I must’ve beat you to it.” Then she dragged him towards the dance floor. She’d come to the club to dance, and dance she would, but damned if she was going to risk someone else getting their hands on her new aquaintance in the meantime.

He wasn’t a bad dancer, though her judgement could be clouded by the way he managed to sneak in deep kisses, or by how, as time passed, one of his three-fingered hands found its way under her shirt, quite unashamedly fondling her smallish breasts, while the other rested on her waist, hip, or buttock.

She was once again sweaty, and he was panting like a dog, when they moved away from the dance floor. This time, though, she wasn’t only sweat that made her wet, and when she started moving for the exit, he followed her without question.

It was by no stretch a cold night, but by comparison to the club the city air seemed cool and fresh. For a few moments they paused by the corner of the building, not quite grinding together as they kissed and fondled. She found a spot by the base of his tail that made him hike it up with a groan, and he nibbled on the side of her neck just so, sending jolts of pleasure that seemed almost electric through her.

“My truck’s in the lot,” she murmured, before diving into another kiss, and they didn’t quite take the time to fully break it before they started around the corner, heading towards a vehicle parked a bit more than halfway down the parking lot, seemingly towering over the rest of the cars despite being quite small for a truck.

She unlocked the car and opened the passenger side door for him, letting him settle before more or less swinging herself in after him, straddling his lap and pulling the door shut behind her. Whatever he had expected, this had clearly not been it, and she felt him tense up when she reached down and found the lever to recline the seat.

“Last chance to run,” she whispered in his ear, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand. “Or I’m going to take you for a ride… And I assure you I’m not about to go drunk driving.”

He relaxed at that, reaching down and pulling her top up, then unclasping her bra. “Good,” he breathed, huskily, “I’d hate to have to arrest you after all the trouble you went through.”

She shivered as his hot tongue caressed her nipple, then moaned softly as his teeth grazed it. With growing urgency she finished unbuttoning his shirt and continued downward, undoing his fly and easing his pants down enough to free the erection trapped within, before going to work on her own clothing. For all that she’d changed in her car before, it was different when there was someone else in there with her, and it took some shuffling before her cargoes and underwear were safely disposed of on the driver’s seat.

She hesitated only briefly before sinking down on his waiting pole, gasping as it slid into her wet depths. Her brother might not be so glad that she’d learned from him where she might fear picking something up — and where she need not worry.

Underneath her, the vulpine police officer was moaning, his hot breath washing over her skin until she caught him in another wet, sloppy kiss, rocking against him. He attempted to thrust back, but couldn’t get the leverage, so one of his hands slid lower, along her side, to her hip, wordlessly urging her on. All too happy to comply, she shifted against him, tried to drive him deeper into her, feeling her own climax slowly building.

She didn’t get so far before her partner clutched her hips, half-howling, blowing his load into her until she felt some of it seep out. She didn’t quite hold still as he came, but her movements became smaller, more subtle.

For a few moments, they were still, and she fully expected him to push her away now that he was done. Then, his hands slid across her skin, one down between her thighs, the other to her back, gently pushing her to lean closer until the thick, soft fur on his chest lay against her skin, and he nuzzled gently at her neck.

Her having been so close already, the gentle, slick touch of his fingers to her most sensitive spot seemed almost electric, making Aretta whimper, half wishing to push against his hand and half trying to pull away from it. He held her, breathing heavily against her skin, rubbing her back as his other hand carried her towards release.

She could swear he was growing hard again inside her just before her orgasm hit, making her clench around him and squirm as his fingers kept brushing against her, sending new waves of almost torturous pleasure crashing through her until she started seeing stars.

Then, when she thought she could stand no more, he quietly withdrew his hand, wrapped both arms around her, and simply held her, while she shuddered in the aftermath of her powerful climax.

“I hope I didn’t go too far,” her partner whispered into her ear, gently kissing her earlobe.

“Nnn-nnn,” was her reply, as she hid her face against the side of his neck, feeling unreasonably relaxed.

“That’s good to hear.”

She closed her eyes, then, resting on his chest, and after a few moments he carefully licked his hand clean and somehow managed to reach back for one of the blankets she’d left in the back seat the last time she drove her brother’s soulbrother anywhere.

The blanket draped across them, they both dozed off.

Continue to Epilogue: Morning After >>>



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