Sometimes surprising Conor is a mistake, especially before he’s had his morning meds. I’m sleeping in for the first time in weeks when lights are flipped on and the pillow is yanked out from under my head.
“Donovan, ya lazy snow leopard, get your fucking tail outa bed! You’re gonna be late for work!”
“Fuck,” I grunt as the same pillow hits me squarely between the shoulders while he’s still yelling. Before Conor can throw something else, I roll onto my side towards him. “Give me a minute.”
“The next train is in ten minutes!” Conor whines, then rushes out of the room in a blur of black and silver fur.
Before I can stop myself, I laugh. My poor wolf can’t remember when his tests are but he knows the train schedule by heart—not something he likes to be teased about. Thank God for smartphones and calendar notifications.
I blink against the light. So much for waking up to the romantic cuddling I had envisioned last night. I sit up and stretch, curling my fingers, working my claws in and out. Then a yelp gets me to my feet.
I rush out of the bedroom and find Conor standing in the kitchen—naked, of course. The French press is on the counter, Captain Streaker is holding the electric kettle, and water is splashed everywhere. His flattened ears tell me everything I need to know. How many times have I asked him to at least put on some shorts before doing anything more involved than buttering toast?
“Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “You got three minutes to get dressed while I get your coffee.”
“You can relax,” I say after he sets the kettle down. His ears perk up, staring at me intently, and I steel myself. “I took the week off.”
He breathes out slowly, but his tail gets more frazzled. “And you were going to tell me this when?” he says with restraint.
“About two hours from now.” It’s my turn to look sheepish. “I didn’t expect you to be up so early.”
“Thought I’d make you breakfast.”
Breakfast probably being oatmeal or toast; we were out of eggs. Then I notice the grocery bag on the table.
“You went grocery shopping? Did you take your anxiety medication?”
“No. Ain’t too busy this early in the mornin’,” Conor says quietly. He looks at the bag with his ears folded back. “Took me too long though and I got back later than I wanted.”
I pull him into a hug and bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Now there’s plenty of time to make breakfast. Just put on some shorts first.”
“Alright,” he agrees.
# # #
After breakfast, we walk over to the balcony door and watch small snowflakes swirling in the wind. I’m drinking coffee and Conor has a mug of that nasty cranberry juice he likes. Both of us are stuffed with far too much eggs, tomato, and bacon.
“So why did you go and take the week off without telling me?” Conor asks.
“You’re off on spring break and don’t have any classes.” I wrap my long, fluffy tail around his leg. “Figured we could spend some time together.”
What I don’t tell him is I’m worried about the break messing up his routines. Without classes to keep his sleep schedule on track, he could quickly become unstable despite his medication. Keeping him active would help with that.
I take a sip of my coffee and smile down at him. Besides, when either of us are alone, we are entirely too inclined to stay at home. There’s nothing I want more than to spend a week going out—watching him smile and wag his tail like a puppy. Just being around him makes me feel young again.
“Did you have any plans?” I ask, running my paws through his neck ruff.
“Got a couple of papers.” He sips his juice and folds his ears back when he looks at me. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to head up to Lewis and join June and Reece for Easter Mass.”
“Let me know when and I’ll go up with you.”
His ears perk up. “You would?” he asks hopefully.
“Of course.” I give him kiss on his cheek. “I told my parents I’m working this weekend.”
# # #
When our breakfast has settled, we go out for a walk. Light snow flurries are still falling, and the temperature is brisk. Conor asks if Rockside Park is too far for me. At three miles, it’s a little far but we don’t have anything planned, so I agree to it.
About two miles in, I realize I’ve made a mistake. Conor is younger, half my weight, and faster despite being a foot shorter. I envy his technique. He’s walking quickly on his toes, letting them take the brunt of the force, saving his back from the painful jolting I’m feeling.
Christ, how did I forget my husband runs half-marathons for fun? It’s been a long time since I was in that good of a shape, before the accident that ended my career as a paramedic.
“Can we stop for a moment,” I ask breathlessly.
“You okay?” he asks, his ears back with concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie, rubbing my back.
“Need me to call an ambulance?” he says, grinning from ear to ear.
“Rachel would find out,” I gasp.
He gets out his phone and fakes tapping at the screen. “Hi there, y’all got an ambulance available? My friend is tired and would like a ride to the park.”
I hold my head in my paw. “Do that and I’ll kill you. Half of my fucking calls were from people wanting a free taxi.”
“Finally.” He puts his phone in his pocket and holds out his wrists.
“Dang it!” he exclaims in a mock pout.
Somehow, I survive the next mile to Rockside Park. Screaming cubs, bundled up against the cold, run around on the sprawling wooden castle in the middle of the playground. I smile, remembering Rachel describe a late night LARP game that involved storming the same castle. I’d never considered Conor to be tolerant of cubs but his tail wags as he watches them play.
After a while, we walk out to a bench on the concrete bank overlooking the bay. Conor leans against my side while my arm rests on his shoulders.
“How’s your anxiety?” I ask. He hides it too well for me to know without asking.
“Fine, I guess.”
“Fucked up, insecure…” I whisper in his ear.
“Neurotic and emotional,” he groans, finishing the acronym. “Stop picking on a poor innocent wolf.”
“If the wolf would tell me how he feels…”
“Annoyed.” He sticks his tongue out.
“Good, now we are getting somewhere.”
“That somewhere being sleeping on the couch.”
“If you want to sleep on the couch, that’s fine.”
Conor playfully elbows me in the side and I put him into a headlock. He flails dramatically. Then he looks up at me with a smile. “Only if you’re with me.”
# # #
We get home after a late lunch of sushi and entirely too much jasmine tea. I work on folding laundry and cleaning the apartment while Conor curls up on the couch with his book reader. Once I stop feeling like a bloated whale, I sit down next to Conor and scratch his neck. It’s about 4 p.m., the time when his medication is least likely to get in the way of more amorous activities.
“Would you like to do something in the bedroom,” I purr.
He looks up from his book reader. “Whatcha have in mind?”
“Whatever you like.” I kiss him on the cheek. “As long as it isn’t too involved.”
“Come on, I’m always decidin’ what we do.” His ears fold back. “Couldn’t you surprise me? I like when you surprise me.”
“Sorry, Cap. I didn’t plan that far ahead today,” I apologize while mentally kicking myself.
When I took the week off, the last thing I was thinking about was sex and that was a mistake because Conor wants—and deserves—more of it than I can give him. So many nights he settles for being pawed off just before we go to bed. He knows I love him more than anyone else in the world but if this week is going to be special for him, I need to find the energy to show I love him in the way he understands best.
I hug him gently and promise, “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”
He turns to look at me and his ears sag the same way they always do when he’s disappointed. Then to my surprise, he gives me a small smile.
“Would your back be up for topping?”
# # #
Conor’s disappointment vanishes once he’s strapped himself into his red nylon harness. His tail wags as I grab his shoulder straps and pull him into a long, drawn-out kiss. Hot breath from his nose ruffles the fur on my cheek. His sheath rubs against my leg.
“You ready?” I ask, holding him to my chest.
His playful growl is all I need.
“Okay, then. Get on the bed!” I shift one of my paws to grab one of his side straps and drag him to the bed.
Conor half jumps, half flops onto his back. He sticks his tongue out. “Make me.”
“Don’t need to,” I say as I climb up on top of him. He giggles as I straddle him and grind my sheath into his. “You’re making this easy.”
“If I don’t, you’d be all worn out just breathing and I’d be mighty disappointed after having gone through all the effort.”
I lean over to touch my nose to his. “Do I need to muzzle you?”
He playfully grabs my muzzle with his. The bed shakes with the wagging of his tail. Then he lets me go. “I’ll behave.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
That gets me a grin. Then he wiggles out from under me and rolls onto all fours. He turns to face me, tail raised high, and shakes his hips. “How about we get going. Hate to see 8 p.m. roll around and have my ride turn into a pumpkin.”
I feel a muscle getting tight in my back, so I push myself up into a kneeling position. Moving takes the pressure off and my back feels better. Then I grab Conor’s harness and pull him towards me. “Get to work.”
He uses a paw to pull back my sheath, then his tongue brushes across the barbs on my cock. The sensation is almost painful, and I have to clench my toes to keep from smacking him. He knows all of the places I’m most sensitive and uses that knowledge ruthlessly.
“You’re one sassy pup,” I growl.
“Ya had the chance to—”
I poke his nose with a finger. “Hush.”
He stops licking me to stick out his tongue. “No”
Before he can say anything else, I grab my erection in one paw and use the other to open his jaw. “Let’s see how well you talk with my cock in your mouth.”
He easily takes my entire length into his long muzzle. His gentle licks and sucks make me shudder. Then he mumbles, “nawt ‘od.”
Despite my attempt to keep my tone serious, I can’t stop a laugh. Conor keeps going until I’m gasping. I have to push him back so I don’t cum in his mouth because if I do, it would take me a while before I’m ready again. Everything people say about cats in bed doesn’t apply to me.
“Okay, be a good wolf and fetch me the lube,” I say, rubbing Conor’s head.
Conor reaches into the nightstand drawer on the opposite side of the bed. He gets the lube and then throws it over his shoulder. “Catch!”
The bottle goes wide and I don’t even attempt to catch it. It thumps against the dresser and falls onto the floor. I have to get off the bed to retrieve it.
“Next time, just pass it over it to me.”
“If you’d just catch it—”
Once I’m back on the bed, I grab his wagging tail. “You’re going to be catching it.”
I lube both of us up before slowly sliding in, pausing halfway. Conor pants a bit as he adjusts his knees. When he’s settled, I push myself fully in. My tail shudders and I wonder why I always forget how awesome this is. I slowly slide back and then grab his harness to pull.
My hips slam into his and he grunts. After another thrust, he starts pushing back against me, arching his back. I angle my thrusts downward. If I do it right, he won’t need much stroking to cum. Sometimes, none at all. As hard and eager as I am, it takes me a long time to build back up. Too long. Conor shifts under me as I slow down.
“Come on,” he whines. “I was almost there.”
“My back hurts. And besides, you like being teased.”
“This ain’t one of those times I wanna be teased.”
“Fine. Give me a minute.” I rub my back and wince.
“Take two, you’ll need both of them,” Conor grumbles.
I shift my knees to hold my back straighter before grabbing his harness again. As I slide myself back in, I slap his butt. “Giddy up doggy, I’ve paid for this ride.”
He looks back over his shoulder, brows furled. “If ya think twenty dollars of sushi is gonna buy you a blowjob, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
“What if I get you off first?”
He sighs dramatically. “I suppose I can agree to that.” Then he pushes back into me with a shudder. “If you make it good.”
Despite his enthusiasm, I’m thrusting slower and we can’t get a good angle. Before long, I can tell he’s getting frustrated. If my back weren’t screaming, I’d reach down to paw him off, but I can’t do that, and he really doesn’t like having to do it himself.
“This ain’t working,” he gasps. I try lowering my hips and he moans. “There!”
Unfortunately, my back isn’t going to hold up and I pull out again.
I rest on my heels for a moment. “My back can’t take it. Can you lift up a little more?”
“I can’t.” He looks at the head of the bed. “Grab me a god-damned pillow.”
“I thought we weren’t doing the rough stuff.”
His ears fold back. “You’re asking to eat that pillow.”
We rearrange ourselves and start again. This time, it’s working. Before long, both of us are panting. Conor whines and whimpers. He’s close but I can’t thrust hard enough to get him off. I take a breath to brace myself and lean over. It hurts, but I can reach. My paw wraps around his cock and he thrusts hard and fast. In only a few seconds, he’s shuddering and whimpering as he cums, spurting thick white streams onto the bed. He pants heavily as I let go to hold his harness with both of my paws.
He isn’t pushing back as strongly as he did before, but it doesn’t take long for me to cum too. I growl and pull him against me as I hammer him with short, quick thrusts. Then I’m panting just as heavily as he is.
We flop on the bed next to each other, not caring about the mess we made; cleaning up can wait.
Conor rests against my chest, letting me hold him close while he sighs happily. My back is going to need some quality time with a heating pad, but holding my smiling wolf in my arms makes it all worth it. His breaths slow, his eyes close, and his ears relax. The tension that’s always a part of him eases for the moment.
“I love you,” I whisper in his ear.
“I know,” he replies with a grin and I kiss him between the ears.
My body is going to regret me taking the entire week off, but I’m not going to.
# # END # #