Catastrophe

by Deirdre O'Dare

  With that reassurance, Carl felt he could safely head for his cottage and rest from the stressful day. He turned to Zyl, who paced along beside him. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I thought you’d be heading off with Max and the others, or are you going to continue to stay with the cheetahs?”

  The shifter lifted one mobile eyebrow, answering the question with one of his own. “What are your plans for the night?”

  “Nothing that can’t include you, if you’re so inclined.”

  * * * *

  “I wasn’t going to invite myself, since you seem willing, I think I can take the night off. We could join some of the Were-kind at the bar, I’d just as soon hang out with you. Any Were business can wait until tomorrow.”

  Zyl saw relief and something like contentment sweep over Carl’s face, his human face. That his new friend had managed two shifts today with no help except for the spur of urgency boded well for his adjustment to his new status. However, for this evening, he hoped they might both stay in human form.

  Intimacy between a male cheetah and a male ocelot could be a bit awkward. Few animals were really gay and Were-kind in their beast forms seldom acted on any such urges, either. Although there was no rule against it and their oath did not speak to the matter, there was still an unspoken agreement or stricture that was almost never violated. And sex between different species simply felt off-key, whether it was between male and female or two individuals of the same gender.

  In the deepening dusk, Zyl laid his arm across Carl’s shoulders. “I’m proud of you, you know. It won’t be long before the take-charge personality of your cat-self infiltrates your human self and infuses you with new power and capability. You’re using it already. You’ll make a damn good spokesman.”

  Carl slid his arm around Zyl’s lean waist. Together they strolled across the zoo to Carl’s house and went in. An urgent excitement began to build in both of them. Zyl could feel Carl’s tension and knew it matched his own. They stepped through the door after Carl unlocked it. Then he shoved it closed behind them. “Finally,” he said.

  Zyl didn’t waste any time on words. The adrenaline rush of the fight still coursed through his body. Perhaps there was a flashback to the beast side where a battle for supremacy often preceded mating. The fact he and his chosen mate had fought, not with each other, for the same side in the conflict didn’t change the response. If anything, it heightened the effect.

  He grabbed the shorter man and dragged him into a fierce embrace. When Carl tilted his face up, Zyl kissed him with a voracious hunger, demanding, devouring. Carl remained passive for a few seconds, then he began to give back as good as he got. Timeless moments later they broke apart, gasping for breath.

  “Wow,” Carl said, his eyes sparkling. “That was some kiss. Is that how shifters do it?”

  Zyl cuffed his shoulder. “Smart ass. That’s how I do it when I really need, really want, somebody. No more talk now. Get up against that wall.”

  They had retrieved their clothes on the way from the front gates to Carl’s house, neither had felt any need to put them on. That meant now there were no barriers. Just as well, Zyl thought. If either of them had been dressed, he would likely have demolished the garments. Patience was not his strong suit.

  He followed Carl, who had backed up to the wall, to one side of the front door. The smaller man looked puzzled eager. “Can I ask what you intend to do?”

  “This.” Zyl pressed against Carl, so nearly every bit of their bodies touched from toes to knees to groin, chest and faces. Zyl moved in a sinuous way, rubbing against Carl, letting their cocks feel the friction and roll against one another’s upper legs and bellies. Although he was already so hard he ached, he’d keep going until he was sure Carl was in the same state. The other man began to moan, a low humming sound deep in his chest.

  When he spoke suddenly, it caught Zyl by surprise. “Let me turn around and bend over a little bit. I want to feel you inside me, as deep as you can go.”

  Chapter 8

  Zyl moved just enough to let Carl turn to face the wall. With both hands pressing against the surface a bit below shoulder height, Carl pushed his t back toward Zyl. Taking his prick in one hand, Zyl rubbed it along the crease of Carl’s ass, down between his upper thighs and back up past the opening.

  “We need lube of some kind or I’ll be tearing you up,” Zyl said, his voice near a growl with tension. “What have you got?”

  “On the table, the ter tub. It’s the only thing I can think of.”

  Zyl gave a sharp laugh. “That’s crazy, it’ll work.” He stretched to reach the plastic container, dipped a finger into the half-melted margarine, and spread it into Carl’s ass. A second fingerful slicked onto his dick completed the preparations.

  This time he did not pause, didn’t even hesitate. He plunged between Carl’s cheeks and thrust in, a long steady drive, doing his best to meet his partner’s desire. Then it was thrust and draw back, rocking, twisting a little bit, accelerating as he began to lose control. Thought faded until there was only feeling.

  Tight and hot, so good, sooo damn fucking good…

  Then he came, giving a very feline yowl, pain and pleasure so intertwined there was no separating the sensations.

  After he caught his breath, he realized the other man was trembling, holding a good part of their combined weight with his extended arms.

  Zyl backed away then, pulling Carl’s slighter body with him. He spun the other man around and again drew him close. “I hurt you, didn’t I? I got carried away. I don’t usually lose control that bad. Are you all right?”

  Carl nodded, his face buried against Zyl’s shoulder. “Not hurt,” he murmured. “Well, maybe a little good hurt, I’m fine. I needed that, wanted it.”

  “What can I do for you now? That was all about me and I’m not just a one way kind of guy. The first time, the other night, we were sharing. I want to share more.”

  Pulling back a bit, Carl reached and caught one of Zyl’s hands. “Come on, then. Let’s go to the other room, get on the bed. Right now I’m kind of worn out, I’ll be okay if I can lie down, lie down with you.”

  Zyl felt an illogical urge to pick Carl up and carry him, he didn’t. He wouldn’t hurt the other man’s pride for anything. He knew Carl was still unaware of his shifter strengths and how to tap into them when he needed to, he’d learn. Teaching him would be one of Zyl’s new self-appointed tasks. There was so much for them to explore, learn, and do together. If only the powers would grant them that time…

  * * * *

  Despite his exhaustion that hit behind the fading rush of adrenaline and energy from the day’s conflicts, Carl’s whole being sang with elation. His doubts faded. He was one of them now, a real shifter. He’d done it on his own, as well as come back to his human form. Even better, he’d gotten past his habitual timidity and stepped up to be a spokesman and liaison between Were-kind and the rest of humanity.

  It was still close to incredible to believe he’d stood there beside Zyl, stark naked, and talked to a bevy of reporters. Who would have thought? And last, definitely best of all, Zyl was back and they were together. Zyl had chosen to come with him instead of going with the local Were cell to plan, rehash and celebrate. Every intuitive sense told him they had a bond building, one that stood a good chance to last a lifetime.

  He didn’t think he had ever been happier. As he tugged on Zyl’s hand to lead his new lover and partner back to the bedroom, it still felt like a first. He suspected the other night had been mostly about his first foray into the shifter world, this was not. This was all about them.

  Zyl stopped, pulling free. “Okay, so what do you want? What do you need? I’ll do anything you ask. I mean, I got mine. I turned selfish and rough, more beast than gentleman there, I couldn’t help myself. I’ll try not to let that happen again. You say I didn’t hurt you, and I hope to hell you are not lying.”

  Carl shook his head. “I’ll never lie to you, Zyl. I know shifters can mind-read, at
least some, so you could check if you want to, I’ll never tell you anything that’s not true.”

  “I’d never mind-read you. Friends and partners don’t do that. There has to be trust.”

  Again, Carl nodded. “I know that. I think Were-kind is basically a lot more ethical than humans. That makes me proud to be a member. I know I’ve got a lot to learn, have to prove myself to the others, with you beside me there isn’t much I can’t do.”

  Zyl smiled. “You’ll learn to stand on your own four feet, too, even when you’re in your man-skin. Right now, I’m going to do something—either what you want or just by guess and by gods if you won’t say.”

  Carl threw himself down on the bed. “I’m ready. Do me.”

  Zyl followed him down, sprawling half across him and reaching between their bodies to grasp Carl’s cock, while his mouth began urgent forays across first Carl’s face and then down his torso. Nip, lick, kiss, nibble, explore. It didn’t take long for Carl to be twitching and twisting as heat built in him. His prick, in Zyl’s deft hand, hardened to an iron rod, burning and aching.

  Carl gave a moaning purr and struggled to frame his request. “Eat me. Take me in your mouth and give me the most amazing blowjob there ever was. I know you can.”

  And Zyl did exactly that. It took forever, yet not half long enough, before Carl shot off like a rocket. His partner stayed with him until the last spasm and jerk, until Carl went limp and almost melted into the mattress in sated collapse.

  Only then did Zyl draw free and slide up to lie side by side, gathering Carl into a tight embrace. He was amazed how a muddle of catastrophes could end up in something as incredible as this. Many challenges lay ahead, now he welcomed them. Together, two Were felines would triumph.

  As he drifted off to sleep, Carl would have sworn they half-shifted to cuddle, warmed by two spotted coats, yet keeping most of their human traits intact.

  THE END

  ABOUT DEIRDRE O’DARE

  A lifelong reader, Deirdre learned to write—poems and stories—as soon as she could print the letters and try to spell words. She went pro with women’s fiction as Gwynn Morgan after she retired from a US civil service job and switched to erotic romance some years back. A confirmed desert rat, she sets most tales in her beloved southwest and slips in her ranch and outdoor background with adventures and ‘critters’ as secondary characters.

  Although all of Deirdre’ s tales are explicit, she emphasizes she writes love stories and not just sex stories because she believes Love in all its forms is the One True Thing. She also believes that every human deserves to find and enjoy it. She currently resides in central New Mexico and serves as chauffer and household staff for two amazing dogs. She enjoys many creative hobbies and spending time with friends and her spectacular grandkids when she can escape from the keyboard.

  For more information, visit deirdredares.blogspot.com.

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