Date: Tue, 9 Aug 2005 11:04:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: Chaos Wolf <chaoswolf04@yahoo.com>
Subject: Cat Next Door Part 8

Disclaimer: The following is an erotic story of a homosexual nature. Please
do not read if you are a minor or if it is illegal where you live to do
so. Remember to think smart and use protection. The following is the eighth
chapter in my "The Cat Next Door" series. If this sounds like something
you want to read, be my guest and read. If not, go back and look for
another story to read.

		       The Cat Next Door, Chapter 8

      March was upon us. Time for sprucing up the yard. Time for misery.
I'm an indoor person. However, I'm not sure if that's due to my feline
genes or my natural personality. It doesn't matter because I hate being
outside for hours on end. It was a Saturday. Bummer, ain't it?  Instead of
watching Saturday cartoons, I faced a brisk breakfast and a juggernaut of
yard work. Sure I'm tolerant of mowing the lawn, dumping clippings into the
lawn bag, and edging the lawn, but anything beyond that is painful. Already
the sun was radiating cold-hearted heat. It's too bad that I can't wear
hats like normal people, but Mom made me a sheet that I can wrap around my
ears which drapes over my neck. My ears point downward, but they can still
move. At least they're not trapped like my graduation cap.

      My parents were in the back removing dead or overgrown plants. If
there is one thing my mother can't stand when it comes to the yard is
plants that dominate others. My task was to pull up weeds in the front
yard. This is arduous because I have to stoop down and try to get clover
from under the little iron bench we have out front. There I was like a
street cat, which by the way I see more and more of, when I could tell I
wasn't alone.


      "Good morning sir. How are you today? I see you're cleaning the
yard." Normally I'm well mannered, but with the heat and the labor, I was
being a crabby cat. I monotonously said, "Morning." I didn't even look at
whoever was speaking to me, but my nose told me that there wasn't just one
person there. Turning my head would waste time. It would mean more time
outside. I said, "Who are you?" The man said, "Jehovah's Witnesses."
Witnesses? I thought they were only a rumor. I remember Fr. Clarence back
in high school mentioning an encounter with them years ago. I've heard
stories, but nothing more. I dropped the tool and got up. My ears picked up
a gasp, "A tail?" I turned to face three people: Two men and a woman. They
appeared petrified, but they were soon backing off maintaining a stunned
appearance. I said, "What?" The woman said, "A freak!" I chuckled, "Getting
a little mean aren't you? I can't help the way I look." They all agreed
with the woman. They had nothing constructive to say. All they seemed
capable to do was demonize me. I swiped a paw at them extending my claws a
bit as I hissed. They scowled and went away. Now that their backs were
turned, I gave them the finger. It was the first time that I had showed
that foul hand signal, but those people pissed me off. At least at
St. Isidore they give me a chance to go to heaven despite me not being
human. With those people gone, I returned my attention to the weeds.

      I don't know how long I was out there, but we finished our yard work
and we went in. Was I hallucinating? Was it 1 PM already? I rubbed my eyes
and that was the time. Mom took a bath first and when she got out, I rushed
in with my boxer-briefs clutched in my hand. I had enough of hot for today
so I set the water to cold. I stepped into that shower and felt calm, the
cold water falling down and flowing through my fur. I soaped up my furry
body and shampooed my hair. I got out and dried myself off. I looked in the
mirror. My hair was getting long. Sure my hair shared the same tabby
pattern as the rest of me, but I could tell what was supposed to be hair
and what was supposed to be skin. I could tell that what was supposed to be
hair was getting undesirably long. A few hours later, we had dinner and I
went back to the dorm room.

      "Is something wrong Joey?" My lips parted from the mouthpiece from my
sax and I looked up at Danny and replied, "No. I mean yes. Today some
Jehovah's Witnesses came knocking. They called me bad things and pissed me
off. I gave them the finger. Yes Danny, I did. I honestly did. How could
you tell?" He went over and put an arm around me, "Kitty Joey, you didn't
play like you usually do. It was as if an alley cat was a musical
instrument. Tell you what. You put that down and I go make you a peanut
butter shake." I pondered his request and said, "Okay then." He opened his
fridge and collected the things he needed. We headed out, locked our door,
and headed to our wing's kitchen which was right around the corner. Danny
had always been suspicious of facilities here so he brought his own
appliances. He put a couple of scoops of ice cream, a generous helping of
peanut butter, and some milk. He handed back the food to me. I put them
down and watched Danny use the blender to create a nice snack for us. He
poured the contents into two plastic cups. He kissed me on the forehead and
I said, "You're too nice to me." Danny said, "I know, it's just that it
looked like you needed some cheering up." I chuckled, "If I needed cheering
up, I would have gotten my own milk jug and guzzled it down not bothering
with a cup." After a quiet evening just between the two of us, we went back
to our room.


      The holy season of Lent was almost at an end, two weeks to go, and
St. Isidore was planning the annual Fish Fry. Jorge and I were both over 18
and had been inducted into the Men's Club. We are the youngest in a group
that consists of retired folks, but that was okay. In fact, it was
welcomed. This would be our first fish fry and we were glad to help.

      We went to our parish early afternoon and put on our hats and
aprons. We asked our club president what he wanted done. He put us on the
same line. There were two lines: One to dine-in, the other for take out. In
theory, we had enough men so that one person would serve fish, another hush
puppies, another cole slaw, another fries, and the last to present the
plate to a customer. However, there would be moments when someone would
have to double up. When I began serving, I had no idea what was in store
for me.

      Naturally, there is an ebb and flow to the whole thing. Our event
lasts from 4:30 in the afternoon to 7:30 in the evening. The club tries to
estimate how much food to buy. There was one time my dad tells me that the
club ran out of food before 7:30. Some people were glad to take the side
dishes for the same price because the revenue goes to a good cause, but
refunds had to be given to people who expected fish. The moral of the story
is to come early. We were helping to serve while our dads were outside
cooking the stuff. We have seen food served numerous times and we believed
we could handle it. We put on our gloves and went right to work. Soon
thereafter, we broke into a steady rhythm. Jorge and I signed up to work
all three shifts. Everything was fine for those first two hours and we
expected that more men would help with the line we were on. I was dead
wrong. It was just me and my boyfriend from placing the fish on the platter
to giving the plate to a customer. If this wasn't bad enough, there was now
a tidal wave of people wanting food. Dammit, where are our helpers! Soon it
became our version of that classic I Love Lucy episode where Lucy and Ethel
are working on that conveyor belt. We were working our tails off, well just
me because I'm the one with a tail, but Jorge was working just as hard.

      The onslaught ended and we relaxed a bit. The men that were supposed
to help us never showed up, but it was the end of the fish fry this time so
we helped our dads clean up and we went back to the dorm exhausted.

      In the morning, Jorge went back to his room. It was nearly noon when
we woke up, our energy had been sapped.


      A few weeks passed and it was time for my Grandpa Alan's 83rd
birthday party. I was looking forward to it because it so happened to be at
Mama Maria's where I had my graduation dinner. There were two long tables
and there were already people sitting down. I saw my cousin Marjorie and
went to her and caught up. She was the same age as me and when we were
young, we were inseparable. Now that we were at college, we didn't see each
other much. Her hair had grown out a bit and she remarked that I hadn't
changed at all. There was an entire table of partygoers whom I did not
know. My other grandparents showed up, why not? Our families were
linked. We ate and ate fajitas. By the end, I was pretty bloated. The cake
came. It was a German chocolate cake, not my favorite, so I had just a
little piece. Marjorie and I then went over our grandpa's old
pictures. Most of them were from the Second World War. He said that he was
in Paris towards the end there and it was amazing. I could almost picture
myself in them. Of course I'd be human because the science that led to my
creation didn't exist then. Fifty years from know, who knows what the world
would be like? Would being like myself exist. In that capacity, I'm a
pioneer. Mom says I'll be a celebrity someday. I'm an urban legend, only
limited to the Metropolitan area. However, the day will come when I will be
known to all whether or not I choose it.

      The week after, Jorge and I went to the movies. We saw a flick
staring a cute actor. The movie had a dumb plot, it was one of those "I
know the plot sucks, but I still get millions" movies. We went just for the
actor. We knew that he'd be mostly naked and it was the best thing besides
unspoiled porn. Besides, a little bit of clothing can be kinky depending on
what it is. In this case, a loincloth. Jorge and I had to untuck our shirts
to hide our hardons. I was the one driving and I didn't know what Jorge was
doing until I stopped at the light. In the filtering light, I could make
out a bronze tinted dick. A hand of the same color pulling foreskin forward
and back. I chuckled, "Already." Jorge said, "Thinking of him and me
pleasuring him made me hard." I said, "He's just an actor." Jorge said, "I
know, but imagine what it'd be like. You discover him wearing only a
loincloth and if you look at him at a certain angle, you can make out his
goods." He had a point and my dick was making a point as well. I turned to
Jorge and said, "Help me out here?" His hand caressed my shorts and he
unzipped them freeing my hardening cock. My boyfriend then said, "Let's go
to our usual spot."


      The usual spot was a secluded neighborhood road where there wasn't
much traffic. We could have a quickie there inside the car. We reached the
spot and I turned off the car. We got out and went into the back seat. What
would we do? Jorge and I have done things in different ways, but this time
we weren't really sure. I took the first step. I pulled my shorts down and
pulled my tail through the hole in the back. I then did the same to my
underwear. I placed my hands on his shoulders and said, "Take me for a
ride?" He said, "For you gato? Yes." I leaned forward and pulled the
armrest down to get a small bottle of lube. Once I greased Jorge's shaft
well, I placed myself on it. Slowly down I went on it until I completely
took it in. He then started grinding. I couldn't get my hands on his back
since it was touching the cushion, but Jorge could get his hands on me. His
hands rubbed all over as I leaned into him. He felt my ears and then moved
down my back, around my tail, rubbed my buns and then held me tight. My
Hispanic lover tensed up and filled me with liquid love. I would have loved
to have a go at him, but the one rule of being at the usual spot was that
only one of us would be cumming if the act wasn't mutual. I pulled up my
clothes and we got back in the front and went back to the dorm.

      The Spring semester was winding down I was thinking about the summer
along with the guys. We came up with the idea of a road trip, but where to?
We agreed for the trip to be within a certain distance of Houston.

      It was Jacob my coworker at Carmichael Cameraworks who found the
solution. He mentioned a convention. We initially turned it down because we
thought it was just going to be a convention for furries, but he said it
was one part of the convention. They'd have science fiction, fantasy,
anime, even a Yugioh card tournament. Since all of us liked something that
was a part of this convention, we agreed to it. Plus it was within our
distance limit, the city of Dallas. Once summer began, we would all go.

-----

I would appreciate any comments you may have, but please keep insults or
flames to a minimum. I'll try to respond to everyone, but no promises.
Please mention the title of the story so I know what you are referring
to. I have a group which you can find at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/chaosden. You can also email me at:
chaoswolf04@yahoo.com