From: elf@halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
Newsgroups: alt.sex,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.furry
Subject: Journal Entry 166 / 0293  [ Waking With Rain ]
Date: 22 Feb 1996 13:18:41 GMT
Organization: Pendor, UnLtd.
Lines: 199
Message-ID: <4ghqfh$j90@news1.halcyon.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: coho.halcyon.com

Seren, Cerim 19, 0293

    Sunlight streamed through my closed eyelids as I returned 
slowly to wakefulness.  I turned over slowly onto my back and 
stretched, feeling the well-worn linen sheets shifting against my 
legs as I did so. 

    A sound caught my attention, making me open my eyes for the 
first time today; Felinzi purring off to my right.  Perry; I eased 
back and closed my eyes again, smiling and remembering our 
encounter last night.  I sat up in the sunlit bedroom, carefully 
easing my legs over the side of the bed and standing up, making my 
way out the door and down the hallway to the kitchen. 

    The smell of cooking breakfast steak apparently caught her 
feral nose.  The sight of her walking down the hallway, licking at 
her muzzle and desperately trying to get her night-ruffled fur 
under control made me giggle. 

    "Good morning, Perry," I said cheerfully, dropping my pan aside 
to give her a hug.  "Sleep good?"  

    Perry finally looked up at me, her greenish eyes clearing 
rapidly.  "Very," she said. "It's been a long time since I slept 
next to anyone.  It felt wonderful."  

    "I'm glad," I said, kissing the side of her nose softly.  "It's 
been a long time for me, too."  

    "Are you cooking breakfast for me?"  

    "Of course!  One thing I learned from my parents.  A good host 
always cooks breakfast.  That's even more important than cooking 
dinner."  I slid the pan of eggs off the burner and turned the heat 
down.  She watched attentively as I dropped them onto a plate and 
then retrieved her steak from the oven.  As I added it to her 
plate, she suddenly turned me around and hugged me tightly, pushing 
me towards the breakfast table.  "Perea!" 

    "Hmmm?"  

    "Your breakfast will get cold," I said, protesting not too 
strenuously. 

    She growled softly, lustfully as she guided me down onto the 
tabletop, holding me with one hand to the small of back until I was 
lying flat.  "What I want for breakfast will never get cold."  

    I laughed as she nudged her way between my legs, sitting down 
at the table and running her slightly unsheathed claws through the 
fur of my legs.  "If this is breakfast," I murmured to the ceiling, 
"Maybe we should have it in bed."  

    "We could have had it in bed, but you abandoned me, Private."  

    "Last night you said you were tire-- Oh, Perea..."  She pressed 
her hot muzzle up to my mound, her tongue flicking out and invading 
my privacy.  So fitting for a soldier, the insurgency with which 
she approach my clitoris.  "Gods, Perry, slow down! 

    The soft purring noise she seemed to make even more 
consistently than Ember ever had migrated up from her chest to her 
throat, emerging as a soft and constant growling sound.  "That's 
it," I sighed, running my mitts over her head and playing with her 
ears, "that's perfect."  I could feel the moisture of her tongue 
mixing with my own, the feel of her cool nose pressing against the 
hood of my clit as she tongued my hole, tasting the juices that I 
could feel between my legs, or so I imagined. 

    She retreated even further, finally just barely kissing my 
cunt, her licks softly raining down over my exposed and needful 
clitoris without pause of pressure.  "Perry," I whimpered. 

    She chuckled then, a soft and feminine sound, almost out of 
keeping with her body and profession.  She started to lick me 
harder, faster, and the little shocks of pleasure from every 
flicker of her roughly-textured and gently-driven tongue pooled in 
my belly like fire coming to life.  "Oh, Perry," I gasped softly, 
"How do you do this to me?"  

    She didn't answer, but instead reached up and, with claws again 
slightly unsheathed, scratched her way down my sides, driving me 
mad with lust.  "Gods, Perry, let me come already!" 

    "I'm not stopping you," she said innocently, her parted muzzle 
kneading my vulva and her tongue parting my labia to lick at my 
core, my entrance, my clit.  I moaned as she licked more directly, 
slashing at my clitoris.  My body tensed as my mind floated away at 
her insistent kisses and licks.  "P...Perry!" I gasped, coming 
against her face, feeling her bury her muzzle against between my 
blood-thickened lips and her tongue racing achingly against my 
clitoris. 

    We lay there, my mitts grasping her ears, her muzzle deep 
between my thighs, locked together like some unmoving tableaux.  
Finally she leaned back and let me sit up.  I looked down at her, 
her muzzle wet with our fluids, and laughed.  She looked up at me 
with that sparkle in her eye that only now she allowed me to see.  
I slid off the table into her lap and held her, thanking her. 

    "You're welcome," she replied to my whispered blessings.  She 
laughed and leaned back in her chair, looking up at me.  "I love 
you," she said with both awkwardness and sadness. 

    "Are you sure that's something you want to say right now?"  

    Perry looked away.  "I need someone to say it to."  

    "And I'm it?"  I asked, pulling away slightly.  "That's what 
all this is about?"  

    She shook her head.  "That's not what it's all about, but 
that's a good part of it.  Rainy, do you know what a 'biological 
clock' is?"  

    "I hope so.  My dad's a geneticist and mom's a doctor," I said. 
"It's either the rhythmic cycle of hormonal release in an adult 
body, or the triggering of some biological process by a 
progressively regenerative or degenerative condition."  

    "I mean, do you think someone could have a biological clock set 
for when they want to have children?"  

    "Oh, that.  I don't know.  Some fems say they have them, times 
when they have to have kids.  My friend Rachel says she's unhappy 
if she's not pregnant at least once every decade.  Mom, on the 
other hand, thought she had gotten her maternity days out of the 
way two centuries ago.  I'm glad she changed her mind."  

    "I am too," Perry said.  "Do you ever feel it yourself?"  

    "What, me want to have kids?"  I smiled.  "Nah, not yet."  

    "I do," Perry admitted.  "I'm not suggesting anything.  I just 
want you to know why I feel so... open, suddenly.  Especially with 
you."  

    "Are you looking for a partner to have them with?  I mean, I 
can't right now, you know that... I'm going to go into PAS training 
in a couple of weeks."  

    She nodded.  "I know it sounds stupid, but yeah, I am.  You're 
just the person I've been most attracted to in the past couple of 
years.  I'm willing to wait a while, but I've decided I want to 
start looking now.  I really want to have children."  

    "Why don't you just find someone and have them yourself?"  

    "Rainy, look at me!  I don't even menstruate anymore. My body 
is so neutered because of what I do, what I love, that I can't have 
children."  

    "We can change that," I said, looking her over.  She was right.  
And I knew that part of the reason for her lack of menstruation was 
that her lack of bodyfat prevented her from harboring the cyclic 
hormones that triggered the start of her period.  Like I said; Mom 
was a doctor. 

    "But I don't want to."  

    "If you want your own children, you're going to have to," I 
said softly.  "If you want to be a soldier for the rest of your 
life, for the centuries you've got ahead of you, that's fine.  But 
if you want children, Perry, you're going to have to shut down some 
of your habits.  You're going to have to let some spread take over 
your life."  

    She smiled.  "Sounds terrible."  

    "It should frighten you," I said, leaning back into her and 
holding her close.  "Nobody ever changes easily.  Nothing ever 
comes without a price."  

    She chuckled.  "I know."  

    We were quiet for a few seconds.  "My breakfast is probably 
frozen by now."  

    "That's what microwaves are for."  

    "Ugh," she said softly.  "Microwaved eggs."  

    "Aw, they're sunny-side down on biscuits.  You won't even 
notice."

    She laughed.  "Okay, I'll take your word for it."

--
"Journal Entry 166 / 0293  [ Waking With Rain ]"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are copyright (C) 1989-1995 Elf Mathieu Sternberg.  Redistribution of
this work for profit is reserved to the author.  Redistribution by
portable media (CD-ROM, floppy, paper, etc.) is expressly forbidden.
Any redistribution must include this copyright notice intact.
--
Elf Sternberg            FUCK THE CDA!       (Cohen vs. California, 1971)
elf@halcyon.com          Where evolution is outlawed, only outlaws evolve
Public key available     http://www.halcyon.com/elf/index.html