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Since I haven't really contributed squat around here, I thought I would at least post a story I wrote.
This is a short story for a friend. He doesn't know I wrote it, but it should tweak a few of his buttons. I couldn't really think up something clever, so I'll just go with: Fan Appreciation and begin the story itself. The following contains scenes of minor growth, teasing, and pseudo dominance, and a bit of overthinking. It's also M/M, but there is no sex. I would consider it NSFW, as well.
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Fan Appreciation
I didn't really want to go, but I didn't want to sit around the house and do nothing either. So we went out to a late dinner. That would be myself, and two other friends. They insisted on this new club that supposedly had some of the best food around, and a supposedly great DJ and huge dance area. I wasn't really into the club scene, but the food did sound good. Plus I was probably just going to couch surf my evening away with a bowl of microwaved popcorn, and some late night TV, so I went along with them. But I just wasn't feeling it, y'know? I didn't want to be the guy that always says no. But sometimes I do want to be the couch surfing guy with his late night TV and popcorn. I relented simply because it was a better choice, even if my heart wasn't in it.
As we gathered around the table, I could already tell I wasn't going to enjoy myself. First, the music was not my taste. Too loud. The smoke machine, or machines were working on overdrive. Everyone and everything was ankle deep in whatever that smoke is. And there's enough around to obscure your vision to perhaps ten to twelve feet max. Not being able to hear myself think, let alone the footsteps of the approaching waiter, he startled me as he parted the smoke to make his way to the table, even though he was only a few feet away. He was nothing special to look at, really. No more than any typical fox. But the one thing that caught my eye was his fur color. If I had to guess, I'd say he was an arctic fox. However, unlike typical fox colours, this fellow was blue where others are white. He was also taller than you'd expect from the average fox. I'm fairly tall myself, but he was at least head and shoulders taller than I was.
Okay, I lied. He was definitely something special. But before I get into that, I should also point out there are two others with me, sitting across the booth on their own bench. There is my ferret friend, and sitting next to him is my other friend who happens to be a wolf. I'm sure they are talking or are busy doing something. I'm currently trapped in my own mind. Their faces are currently buried in the rather monolithic menus this place has. Although, at least they are tastefully designed. Black leather, and real, I could tell. Steel re-enforced corners for added durability. The menu was placed carefully inside pieces of plastic, so that each menu area was separated by meal type, and wines, desserts, and what have you. They even embroidered the name of the place on the front. It was a nice touch.
The waiter cleared his throat, and in what I can only describe as an amazing voice, he asked "And what will sir be having this evening?" His pleasant smile, coupled with that voice, and that body of his. Oh yes, I did lie earlier didn't I? When I said he was nothing special, that was simply my annoyance at the music and ambiance. Had they said a hot foxie worked here, I would have obviously given a much better mini review.
Allow me to describe to you his deliciousness. His shape is lean, and well-toned. As I said, likely an Arctic Fox. His fur, however, rather than being purely white, is actually a very light blue. His whiskers are long and graceful, extending from beneath his slim muzzle to either side. His eyes are a deep green and seem to sparkle with an inner light. He wore a simple, dark blue long sleeved buttoned up shirt, and a waiter's apron that was more or less draped over his waist. I felt almost envious of that apron once I glanced ever quite so briefly at the bulges it didn't exactly hide, but instead pronounced quite well. That shirt of his fits very tightly, showing off a physique, of which he is obviously quite proud, and must work out constantly to maintain. Or at least, that is how I instantly imagined, and enjoyed such imaginings.
I was hit with a sense of dread and embarrassment all at once. Was I staring for a long time, or did I just perceive an extra long time as I drank in his looks? I stammered a bit and opened their thankfully large menus that I hid my reddening cheeks behind. I could swear that I could hear the waiter's grin on the other side of the menu. For a brief moment, I thought maybe if I hid behind here long enough, maybe one of my friends would order and I could just mumble 'I'll have what he's having" and then crawl off somewhere and die of embarrassment. Preferably after eating. My friends did have quite the taste in food, and it would be a shame to waste it,
Suddenly, a blue furred hand pulled the menu away, and startled me out of my continued embarrassment-shame spiral. Not that I enjoyed such things, I was just exceptionally good at them. And today I was in full on self guessing and self depreciating mode. I simply looked up at him and swallowed deeply. He spoke again, and I am only vaguely aware of melting at the sound of his voice this time "Are you ready to order now sir, or shall I wait a little longer?" Oh gods oh gods oh gods, I was staring at him, and I embarrassed myself a little further. Curse this fox for taking my hiding spot away. "Uhh" I managed to squeak out, and I'm fairly sure my voice cracked as well. I'm about to turn 30, and I just made the stereotypical squeaky voiced teenage awkward noise. Let's just get the dual snot rockets out now, so I can relive my teenage years all over again, and further embarrass myself.
Now, at this point, I am completely unsure whether this fox chuckled, or grinned. But obviously he wanted me to feel at ease. He reached over and placed his hand on my shoulder. I was suddenly very aware of how strong he was. My eyes followed his arm back to the shoulder, and then across to his gaze. It was not one of amusement, or even any hint of emotion at all. In fact, he looked indifferent to my obvious extreme level of self discomfort. I wasn't sure whether this was further fuel, or if I was supposed to snap out of it and order. I almost got lost in his gorgeous eyes before he brought a finger up to the end of his muzzle and said 'shhhh'.
And I swear to you, the music in the club slowly faded down to an acceptable level. I could hear myself think now. It was mostly panic. Lots of panic. However, this was completely lost on me, as his eyes were locked with mine, and I could do little to hide the erection I had going, from just being close to this impressive specimen. I'm fairly sure I managed to breathe, but little else. He stood back up, and was directly next to the only way I had out of the booth. But I'm sure if I was given a few more minutes, I could have melted down and dribbled into a pool of embarrassment under the table, with option to escape.
He leaned in towards me again, but this time, he put his hands on the table. I watched as the already tight fabric grew tighter across him. Especially along the chest, shoulders and biceps. But I did enjoy the whole package, I must say. My attention was immediately drawn to the areas that were so much more pronounced than they were before. And then it hit me.
Not that he struck me, no. The top button on his shirt lost the war to remain buttoned, and it struck me right between the eyes. I merely blinked and stared transfixed. I could tell he was flexing, the arms of his shirt got fur tight against him, and with what seemed like such little effort, the shirt tore from cuffs to shoulder on him, the ribbon-like remains falling gently to the ground at his feet. I almost envied them. They got to escape.
I watched as he shifted his weight, and stood to his full height again. He undid the apron at his waist, and let that too fall to the ground. I swallowed deeply as I could now see in better detail that package of his. It's just as big as I imagined. And I do tend to imagine very big. I heard more fabric tearing, and I looked up. His shirt was tearing at every seam, allowing me to see quite the physique this fox had. He definitely worked out, that much was obvious. It's tough to gauge perfection as it's teasing you mercilessly. But I was fairly certain I had not seen anyone quite this athletic before. It's like he is an alympic athlete and this waiter gig is just something he does for fun.
He wore a pair of shorts. Spandex most likely, as it hugged every curve and bulge like a second skin. It was at that moment I decided that if I were to die right here, I'd want to come back as those shorts. To say that his impressive physique continued here. It would be an understatement. I could get lose in the definition along his thighs. The bulges he sports in front are dangerously close to massive, and I was somewhere between shocked and amazed when he dipped two thumbs down either side of these shorts and peeled them down. You know that sound when you shuck corn? I swear that was the noise I heard as he peeled that spandex further down his thighs. As if his package was so grateful to not be held right now that even it could produce a better sound than I could right now.
He let out a sigh of relief, and I took a moment to look back up at his muzzle. He licked his lips. Not so much the lips actually, it was more along his teeth, in a playful way. Not that stripping for an obvious fan wasn't being playful in itself. He turned his attention back down to his package, and obviously, so did I. It was at this point that I was fairly sure I was dreaming. He took a wide legged stance and put his hands on his hips. I think it was at this moment that I realized I was dreaming. I had to be. This doesn't just happen. An adonis in blue fur doesn't just strip for you. And yet, here it was.
He arched his back and let out a long sigh. I stared transfixed as his sheath bulged, and then again. Each bulge made his sheath just a little bigger, and just a little wider. The balls below that had to start fighting for room between his thighs as they grew to feed the monster that sat above them. I think with their final burst of size, they almost stripped a section of fur between his thighs as they forced their way forward so prominently. Not even he was safe from his growth. I'm fairly sure I was staring agape right there. There was a little voice in the back of my mind that made me shiver. Just eyeballing his enhanced size now, and how wide I was currently slack jawed, one of the two of those was currently too big to fit around the other. Another voice popped up that I should try anyway. But that isn't what shook me from my thoughts, no.
It was the sudden realization that his sheath was eye level to the top of my head, and I was sitting down. Sure he was a tall fellow, but not quite that tall from what I remember. Was he growing? Aside from being attractive, and hung like a horse, he was also bigger? My mind was already swimming in fantasy, I was scarcely able to keep my eyes open. This guy ... this fox ... he was everything I wanted. And he was right here. I closed my eyes to blink, but kept them shut. This is the part where I wanted to burn an image into my brain so that when I close my eyes, this is what I see. But, I felt his hand on my shoulder once more. It broke me from my reverie.
I opened my eyes, and sadly, he was back to normal. Not necessarily a bad thing, but obviously I had imagined the entire thing. "Are you alright sir?" He asked in that voice of his. I could hear him talk about anything. He could have just told me he was going to set my hair on fire because he was bored, and I still would have said "Yeah" Barely rasping out any sound at all, I was amazed. He moved back and took his hand off my shoulder, but not before brushing his hand along the side of my face in a friendly way. I'm not ashamed to admit that right then, I'm fairly sure I was never going to be as hard in my life as I was during that moment.
He took out a pad to write down our order, and I sighed in relief as he looked to my friends. I'm sure they ordered, but I was lost in thought. I'm sure I ordered too, but I do not remember what it was, or even if I liked it. My mind was still swimming, and I was just as hard as I was before I ate, as I was after. If I even did at all.
He brought the bill sometime after I finished my water, which he filled. I tried not to make eye contact. Given enough time, I bet I could have thought myself out of existence just to escape the moment he was near me. I wanted him to hold me down and make the plates and cutlery on nearby tables rattle. And the more I thought about it, the more I tried not to be so close. Thankfully filling a glass with water doesn't take much time. But it felt like an eternity. He turned to leave as I put my credit card onto the bill plate. But he dropped that little pad he was carrying that he wrote our order on. Whatever it was.
And I swear to you, he wasn't wearing those shorts. Better yet, between his thighs, there was some fur missing.
Have you ever swallowed so loud that it sounded like you were on stage in front of a mic, in a quiet theater? The music volume had nothing on me.
I was helped up after my friends who I assumed got tired of waiting for me to move. They ushered me out of the place. The rush of street noise and background din pulled me back to reality. I couldn't help myself, but I looked over my shoulder to the club longingly. There he was looking out the window at me, with his hand next to his face in the phone sign. "Call me" he mouthed.
I stopped walking, stuffed my hands in my pockets, looking for the bill. Once I found it, I flipped it over.
His name was there, with his number.
I'm not ashamed to admit it, just on the prospect of seeing him again, and hearing that voice of his, I came on the spot, right then and there.
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