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A couple of months ago, I got a journal in my notices from a user named [iconname]Duzt[/iconname] who announced that he’s got a new comic in the works and that he’s not dead. I remember thinking, “Hmm. I’m having trouble remembering that name…but it’s orange, so I followed him for [I]something[/I]. Let’s see what’s in his gallery, and what he might’ve changed it from.” Right, that darling Spyro pic! And the Skybound comic! The Eevee animation! The [B]MATTERS SAGA! RIGHT!! [I]YESSS!![/I][/B] So sure enough, it was the premiere of a serial called [I][U]ZeRo SiN[/U][/I], and it only got me to the 2[t]nd[/t] page before I got hooked on Rolex and Sunny’s chemistry. Right after that, the art style and direction. And boy, that was a wrap. With each character intriguing in their own unique way, detail, quality and nuance to die for, and a captivating plot that genuinely keeps you up at night, [I][U]Z|S[/U][/I] immediately became a comic filled with layers! Back on topic, I was talking with Duzt about how if I could draw, I’d make fanart of Rolex and Sunny, being completely in love with their dynamic. Having discovered that I was a writer, he suggested that I write about them instead. He MEANT like a short prompt or something; a little scene, which I was initially planning on doing. But before I knew it, I had more and more piling up, and soon I had my own fanfiction with a semi-canon plot and everything! But man, Duzt was excited regardless. Now, it’s finally done and ready to share with the world. He loved it, and rained so much praise upon the story, and made me feel SO honored with his accolades. I have to give it to him, this man has such a great connection with his fanbase and a wonderful dedication to his craft. This is a beautiful and deep captivating world he’s created, and it’s so great to have someone so positive and involved be at the helm! I implore you, give this comic a read if you aren’t already—you’re missing out!\n\nhttp://www.zerosincomic.com/\n\nWith that being said, enjoy my (non-canon) fanfiction story. It ran a little long as I got distracted, but don’t worry. I promise I’m going to stay a lot more focused—the other one I’m writing right now is a lot shorter and safe for work. ", "description_bbcode_parsed": "So….yeah! A couple of months ago, I got a journal in my notices from a user named \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tDuzt\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tDuzt\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
who announced that he’s got a new comic in the works and that he’s not dead. I remember thinking, “Hmm. I’m having trouble remembering that name…but it’s orange, so I followed him for something. Let’s see what’s in his gallery, and what he might’ve changed it from.” Right, that darling Spyro pic! And the Skybound comic! The Eevee animation! The MATTERS SAGA! RIGHT!! YESSS!! So sure enough, it was the premiere of a serial called ZeRo SiN, and it only got me to the 2nd page before I got hooked on Rolex and Sunny’s chemistry. Right after that, the art style and direction. And boy, that was a wrap. With each character intriguing in their own unique way, detail, quality and nuance to die for, and a captivating plot that genuinely keeps you up at night, Z|S immediately became a comic filled with layers! Back on topic, I was talking with Duzt about how if I could draw, I’d make fanart of Rolex and Sunny, being completely in love with their dynamic. Having discovered that I was a writer, he suggested that I write about them instead. He MEANT like a short prompt or something; a little scene, which I was initially planning on doing. But before I knew it, I had more and more piling up, and soon I had my own fanfiction with a semi-canon plot and everything! But man, Duzt was excited regardless. Now, it’s finally done and ready to share with the world. He loved it, and rained so much praise upon the story, and made me feel SO honored with his accolades. I have to give it to him, this man has such a great connection with his fanbase and a wonderful dedication to his craft. This is a beautiful and deep captivating world he’s created, and it’s so great to have someone so positive and involved be at the helm! I implore you, give this comic a read if you aren’t already—you’re missing out!

http://www.zerosincomic.com/

With that being said, enjoy my (non-canon) fanfiction story. It ran a little long as I got distracted, but don’t worry. I promise I’m going to stay a lot more focused—the other one I’m writing right now is a lot shorter and safe for work. ", "writing": "[i]Bwee-oo, bwee-oo. Bwee-bweep![/i]\n\nI smirk.\n\nKnowing him, he'd probably roll his eyes or flatten his stare if he found out that I made his custom ringtone a police siren. Never have to worry about that, though; if he's here, he wouldn't be calling me. If he'd be calling me, he wouldn't be here to hear it! There's a simple elegance in its' logic. \n\n``Uh-oh. Mr. Stone, calling that late? That can't be good news.''\n\nI unwrap my left arm from behind my daughter Amber's back as I get up off our couch, letting her continue the movie without me. Letting out a tired sigh as my bones and muscles wake up, I reply to her: ``Eh, he's probably calling with some updates on the Crabapple Case. He's a lot more focused on it since it hits closer to ho - ``\n\nCovering the wallpaper of my bright-eyed little treasure beaming alongside me, wearing matching shirts that read `My Daughter/Mom Gave Me Crabs At Rockaway Beach', is his notification - not a missed call, but a text message.\n\n[i]...Oh![/i]\n\n9:46 PM: [b]I'm downstairs. I need to talk to you. We won't be long. -R.S.[/b]\n\nI smile, shaking my head. I've met quite a few people in my short life, over my travels and experiences, but Rolex just might be the only person in the universe who actually goes into his phone's settings and uses the signature option for his text messages. I type a quick response while walking towards my shoes at the door. Based on the wording of the message, it sounds like he wants me to go with him somewhere, obviously off the clock. \n\n9:48 PM: [b]Drake w/ you?[/b]\n\n9:48 PM: [b]Yes. -R.S.[/b]\n\nMakes sense. The other day, Ima Stone - Rolex's wife, who had been missing for [i]fourteen years[/i] - just appeared out of nowhere; bringing with her a mystery house that [i]also[/i] materialized out of thin air, with indoor lights that put Vegas to shame, and some wacko cult that claimed to grant people their deepest wishes as long as they had no sins in their heart. My partner was understandably too overcome with shock at first, but it barely took him a few hours to come to his senses: that woman was an impostor hack and that nut house was a crock full o' shit. We've been investigating the place and its activities ever since, and over the past few days, I've been keeping his teenage son, Drake, at my house, at the meantime. I wouldn't want [i]my[/i] daughter to be left alone with her father either...for a [i]multitude[/i] of reasons. \n\nShaking my head to clear the smog, I reach into my pocketbook and fish out a couple of twenties, and leave them on the counter, just in case they want some pizzas instead of leftovers. \n\n9:51 PM: [b]K. Down in a minute.[/b]\n\n``I'll be back in about an hour or so, Aim!'' The thirteen-year-old turns over in the couch to acknowledge me. ``Drake's coming upstairs, I've left some pizza money on the counter in case you guys get hungry. [i]Please[/i] don't burn the apartment down, okay?'', cocking an eyebrow at her as I turn and head to the apartment door.\n\nOut of the corner of my eye, her face brightens with excitement, and she flops back onto the couch. ``[i]Yes![/i] And don't worry, Mom - we'll find a [b][i]ton[/i][/b] of stuff to do to each other! By ourselves! While you're gone! You [i]did[/i] say you wouldn't be back until morning, right?''\n\nEven though I know she's joking - she'd only recently told me that she wasn't really attracted to boys - every hair on my body instinctively jumps on my body at once, and I'm pretty sure my tail tip touched the ceiling. I turn to her with a flat scowl. She stares right back at me, her eyes half lidded in a smug sneer, and even with the couch hiding her face, I can tell the little monster's mischievous smile is [i]melting[/i] the cushion. \n\nI fold my arms at her. ``Okay. You know what?''\n\nHer eyes narrow to a squint, which can only mean her grin behind the couch has grown to [i]Chesire Cat[/i] proportions. The Book of Revelation had it all wrong: Four Horsemen, my ass - the apocalypse would herald [i]solely[/i] from one 18-year-old Amber Rays.\n\nI chuckle wearily, wishing her a good night, opening the front door and leaving it unlocked before jogging downstairs, though I'm tempted to just call Rolex off and wrap my little troublemaker up in a million straightjackets like a Looney Toon. Rolex's police car is parked in front of the apartment staircase, a beaming Drake Stone wiggling in the back. \n\n``Hey, Ms. Ray!''\n\n``Hey there, Whirlwind,'' I smile warmly at him. ``How's it going? Keepin' the gray wolf gray?'' I jerk my head at the perpetually flat glower of Rolex Stone, stonefaced in the driver's seat.\n\n``Yyeahh...'' He looks down, more than a little sheepish.\n\nI whisper loudly, intentionally making sure my partner hears the dramatic irony. [i]``What's got Chuckles so upset?''[/i] \n\n``Wellll...we're late, because it took him about twenty minutes to empty out the back of the car after what happened last time.''\n\nIt slipped out.\n\nMy brain had no idea, and my nerve gave no permission.\n\nI tried to catch it with my paws, but it was far too late.\n\nI didn't mean to laugh. I certainly [i]SHOULDN'T [/i]have laughed, because I could already tell by the glow on his face that it only [i]encouraged[/i] him. And the searing glare as Rolex turned to look at me...\n\nThe [i]last[/i] time Drake rode in the backseat of the cruiser, he had had a day off from school and Rolex offered to take us to lunch. It was a surprisingly nice day out, and regrettably, I was the one who had opted to roll the windows down so we could enjoy my namesake. We had gotten distracted discussing some case or other, who knows what. But the second we hit the town square, that devilish whirlwind of his dove into Rolex's gear bag, grabbed the first pair of handcuffs he could find, somehow managed to cuff himself [i]behind[/i] his back, then practically went [b][i]feral[/i][/b] pretending to be a psychotic gangbanger resisting arrest. \n\nWell, with the windows down in the center of the city, several members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences were impressed enough to nominate him on the spot and called our office to `negotiate with his agent', and even though Rolex put a stop to Drake's antics rather quickly, exactly forty-nine minutes later, all [i]three[/i] of us were getting masticated like a garbage disposal in Chief Cortez's office. I had to practically bite my tongue in half to keep myself from laughing throughout the whole ordeal...but once we got back to the patrol car and discovered that Drake didn't know [i]which[/i] handcuffs he grabbed, so he didn't know [i]which[/i] key would [b][i]unlock[/i][/b] them?\n\nLet's just say I got my ab crunches in for the [i]entire month[/i]. \n\nI open up the backseat, watching Drake happily scamper out. ``Alright get outta here, delinquent - get upstairs before we [i]both[/i] go missing.''\n\n``Okay...''\n\n``And don't stay up too late, either!'' I yell after his bounds up the stairs.\n\n``Got it, Ms. Sunshine!''\n\nPopping the passenger door open, I slide in and buckle my seat belt. ``Okay, partner. Where you taking me that's so important this late?''\n\n[i]Not that I mind it's [/i]you.\n\nHe says nothing at first, shifting the car into drive, then pulling forward to leave the complex. ``I just...need some solid ground for a minute...I need [b][i]you, [/i][/b]Sunny.''\n\nGod...damn! [i]Every[/i] neuron in my head fires two shockwaves of flushing heat across the front of my face and down the back of my spine, and they [i]know[/i] where they're meeting for coffee. I try my best to suppress the shudder that follows. Is strapping, brooding young detective Rolex Stone finally gonna make his move tonight? He knows that I've been harboring this...desire for him for a long time...it was bound to happen anyway. Spending so long with each other on the job, a bond develops. And you can't help but feel a...pull. A longing. While I wish he had given me a little time to prepare - I know I look a mess - it'll be well worth it when we finally cross that line...together. Calm down, girl. Focus. Deep breath, out through the mouth, that's it.\n\nI move my hand to his thigh, stroking it slowly up and down, making the message loud and clear:\n\n``Of course. Whatever you need me for, anything - I'm yours, Ro-Ro. [i]Always.[/i]''\n\n*****\n\nI've [i]gotta[/i] find something to whack him over the head with.\n\nAlmost twelve minutes of monosyllabic responses and Calvin Klein model stares out the window, and he pulls into some frou-frou restaurant and heads for the bar!? [i]Come on![/i]\n\nWell, at least the place was nice...what was the name of it again? [i]Attirance[/i]? Eh. Some fancy junk with hard to pronounce names...Coke a Veen, Beef Birmingham, quiches....boo..wee...la..base? Whatever. Real hoity toity crap. He had picked a spot next to the window, overlooking the gloomy night of Banks, and I of course sat on the stool next to him. He must've wanted the perspective. I had [i]already[/i] eaten at home, so I had ordered a Sprite with one of my powdered drink mixes; I'm mostly done with mine. He's nursing a lowball glass of Jack and Coke, though `nursing' is beyond generous of a term - he's barely had a sip and a half, he's been so lost in repose. If he hadn't already paid for the damn drink, I'd think he'd ordered it just to look cool and moody. But no, even his lips are still dry - I'd surely know. \n\n[i]...Fuck this, I have to ask him. It's overstepping, but considering [/i]these[i] circumstances...[/i]\n\n``What happened, Rolly. Was it...more of the same from the other night?''\n\nHe silently turns to look at me. His face and jaw is unreadable, but his eyes project this....this small blip of something I can't really place. He's right to look at me that way - I'm getting way too deep into his personal life. Pretty much the night that ``Ima'' returned, she was desiring the warmth and comfort of her darling betrothed. Understandable, of course - it [i]had[/i] been more than a decade and change. But by then, Rolex had caught onto the truth, and he had refused. To keep her guard down and prevent raising suspicion, he had told her that he was simply overwhelmed and exhausted with emotion, considering everything...but that was a few days ago. She'd been coming on to him every night since, and he was running out of plausible excuses while he tried to find the...hmm. \n\n[i]Now[/i] I understand that shimmer in his expression. \n\nIt looks like hurt feelings, so I soften the blow as best I can: ``I know...that it's a difficult subject. And I can't [i]imagine[/i] what you're going through - Jesus, [i]no one[/i] can. But we're going to figure this out. You called me to talk, and that's what I'm good at. Come on, let's get that noggin up and runnin'!''\n\nOne smmmaaalll, imperceptible upturned corner. [i]Yep, I've got him. That's all I need.[/i]\n\nHe's got me beaming in response. I wiggle my butt a little bit closer - as close as I can get without falling off a tiny round stool, anyway - take a big gulp of my powder mixed drink and get my small pad ready. \n\n``Okay. So, creepy house just pops up in the middle of a farm in the middle of the night. No generator, but the interior is lit up like a flashbang and had cameras recording the place. The Crabapples call us in a panic - '' \n\n``Like they normally do.''\n\nI give a short but prideful smile at the first full sentence he's said since picking me up tonight.\n\n``Yep, like normal. Then a few minutes later they show up with that coyote saying he's with them?''\n\n``So, they're in on it?'' Rolex ponders, sliding his cocktail to the side while facing me.\n\n``Or being held against their will. The mister never explained that head injury; that can't be a coincidence.''\n\n``Either way...''\n\n``Yep. Suspects, too.'' I notice Rolex is swirling his drink around, still not drinking it, but with that ice melting, it's only going to drown further. His pupils are drifting back and forth....reading. ``What are you thinking?'' \n\n``Ginger Oaks, the neighborhood saint. She was by far the easiest to convince to join their ranks and lose...whatever sin she had rattling around inside that pious head of hers.'' \n\nI lean on a fist while nipping the straw between my teeth to freshen up my vocal cords. ``What, think she's running an underground egg smuggling ring?''\n\n``[i]I [/i]think...'' He brings the glass up to his mouth, pauses, then reconsiders, putting it down. ``I think if their ulterior motives were out in the open, or if she were to know about them...she'd be the [i]first[/i] to try and bring it down - either through us, or her army of barren bible-thumpers. Whatever they're doing, they're hiding it pretty well.''\n\nI chuckle. ``Of course, they hide their evil while suckering in hundreds, Rolly - it's a religious organization.'' \n\n``[i]My sides,[/i]'' he replies dryly. I stick my tongue out at him. Rolex finally brings the glass to his mouth to drink once more, then his face contorts in a grimace. \n\nYep. Flat. He puts the lowball on a coaster and shoves it to the side, done with the watered down drink.\n\nHe continues, ``So [i]they[/i] win her over by telling her what she wants to hear, and feeding her pie in the artificial sky through some robo-helmet that costs more than both our cars. Who else?''\n\n``That goat kid, Peter - who was playing hooky to check the place for himse - \"\n\n``Ahh, shit...I forgot to call the school after him that day...''\n\nI flash him one of my daughter's Chesire grins. [i]Damnit, I thought [/i]I[i] was the mom, here...[/i] ``I told you, I've got your back, partner! I checked in with the front desk back at the office.'' He smiles gratefully as our eyes meet. ``So, he said he wanted a million followers online. I haven't checked the kid's profile recently, but I'm sure they can find some way to round up a bunch of fake accounts.'' \n\n``Hmm, so fame and recognition...''\n\n``And finally, our favorite skin flautist from earlier, Walter. Won't tell us what his `sin' was, but that wacko cult gives him a check for four [i]million[/i] dollars? And it [b][i]clears[/i][/b]!?''\n\nHe spins to me, and there it is: the once-in-a-blue-moon look of surprise and shock, on Mr. Rolex Stone. A rare reminder that his eyelids do, in fact, fully open. \n\n``[i]Yeah[/i]. Sarah called earlier today, left a voicemail on the office phone.''\n\nSarah, being Sarah Smith, was the bank teller who was responsible for processing the mysterious check handed down from so called on high - with our permission, of course. It went without asking, but I told her to call us as soon as there were any updates. Unfortunately, the bank closed before I could call her back. \n\n``So...word nerd got his wish, too...''\n\n``Yep. So, wealth, fame, and recruitment through validation. What do they all have in common? [i]Money.[/i] This cult is being backed by somebody who's rich, bored, and knows just enough to rope a town into thinking they're the answer to their prayers. And expect a whole lot more back.'' \n\n``But I didn't hear them say anything about money exchanging hands, Sunny.''\n\n``Well, you know how to get `em addicted, Rolly. First taste.''\n\nWhatever smile on his face slowly starts to drain, and the mood falters quickly. \n\n``So, then...how does [i]Ima[/i] fit into all of this?''\n\nMy own smile dies pretty quickly, too. [i]He's the only exception.[/i] I look down at my now empty glass. [i]Everyone else got tangible results - or at least, things that can be [/i]bought[i] with tangible results.[/i] My eyes pop open as another thought crosses my mind. [i]Everyone [/i]asked[i] for those things. How could they possibly know what Rolex would want, and that [/i][b]he[/b][i] would be there to witness it? I mean...how can they - [/i] \n\n``I mean...'' Rolex begins, interrupting my thought by somehow finishing it: ``How could they seemingly get every single detail of her...so close? Even the marks on her body? I...I just don't understand...''\n\nHe buries his nose in his paws, framing it with his fingers as he stares down at the bar. I mirror his pose, also trying to figure out his specific case. ``Hmm...maybe they st - \"\n\nI stop myself. [i]This[/i] time, I stop myself, thank God.\n\n[i]Jesus [/i][b][i]God[/i][/b][i], Sunshine! What the fuck were you thinking!? `Stole Ima's [/i]autopsy[i] records and hired someone to [/i][b][i]pose[/i][/b][i] as her'!? That's irrational, even for you. And it's sick! First off, we don't even [/i]know[i] if Ima is dead or not; nothing conclusive has been reported. And even [/i]if[i] she had died, obviously Rolex would be the first to know about it! Just...get this out of your head, Summer - you're letting your jealousy go too far.[/i]\n\n``Haah...m-maybe they [i]st-arted[/i] with a special case. I know you moved out here to this little town, but...you're still very famous in the police world, Rolex. Maybe they read up on you, and just...gathered as much information as they could and filled in the blanks. You know reports and tabloids leak more than they should.'' I rub his back and feel how tense and tight it is. God, how many days has he been so guarded like this? ``There's gotta be some explanation.''\n\nHe only shakes his head. I can't blame him. \n\n``So, then.... how did I get...[i]her?[/i]'' \n\nI stare sympathetically as my troubled friend lets out this ragged scoff of disbelief. He can't help but repeat himself:\n\n``Just...[i]how[/i] did I get her, Sunny...how did [i]I[/i] get [b][i]her?[/i][/b] No one else got...''\n\n He gives up with a pained sigh. I complete the hug, wrapping my arm around his left shoulder and simply snuggling my head in on the right, as we stay silent. His normally furrowed brows are even, straight, and soft. The tall wolf's eyes shut tight, shaking his head foggily as though my arm is the only buffer between the atlas on his shoulders. It hurts...it fucking [i]hurts[/i], seeing him like this. Especially knowing the reason: His wide-eyed excitable Whirlwind. If it weren't for Drake, Rolex would be able to shrug this off easily and not let it affect him so deeply. Fourteen years gave him plenty of time to retain focus, keep hope and most importantly, sharpen his mind. But with his son's life being entangled in his work...his greatest motivation has now become his Achilles heel.\n\nWe're not going to get much further tonight - it's best to come at this case with fresh eyes in the morning, find a few trees to kick and catch the resulting mess. It's time we got back home. I look behind Rolex's back at the general direction of the so-called miracle house. Its lights aren't visible from this angle of course, but the eerie dread is definitely enough to visualize an unsettling glow from that area, as if to taunt us. I harden my glare and stand up, patting my partner on the back. ``Come on. Let's get out of here, I'll drive you home.'' I offer, despite both of us knowing that his blood alcohol content was practically [i]negative[/i]. But to my deep surprise, he doesn't object. I start the car and pull out, making a mental note to come back to this place later, under better circumstances.\n\n*****\n\nThe mood gets even more grim as I head to Rolex's apartment complex - taking the `scenic route', so to speak - to give him time to think and prepare for what he might say to Ima when he gets there. Not a word has passed between either of us since we left the restaurant. How the hell do you break [i]that[/i] tension, anyway? So, we opt for silence. The cruiser headlights cut through the pitch-black seas ahead of us, drifting back and forth over the road. Out of the corner of my eye, I occasionally see Rolex staring out the window, but I keep my eyes forward, not wanting to intrude on his thoughts. Soon though, they seem to be too much for him, as I see movement to my side. He squeezes his eyes shut, and shakes his head a couple of times, breath shaky. I know better than to ask if he's - \n\n``Stop, stop the car.''\n\nI pull over immediately, without question and pop the locks. I'm unbuckling my seatbelt, but he's already out the door and a couple of steps away from the car, and I can hear his panting from inside. As I go around the front of the car, I briefly take in our surroundings: it's hard to see with my body blocking the lights, but it looks like I pulled up to Langmore Park - pretty cozy walking bit, but the main focal point is an elevated ledge overlooking a big lake. The road we were on cuts right through the side of the park with that cliff edge. \n\nWhen I reach him, he's clutching his head and pacing a few feet away, between the cruiser and the bottom of the hill. Running his hands through the top of his headfur, his breath comes out in shaky sobs. \n\n``[i]It doesn't make sense...[/i]''\n\n``Rolex - ''\n\n``I don't [b][i]get it!![/i][/b] HOW can they...grr - \"\n\nHis eyes burn with a fury that I only see in nature documentaries. His brows are back in that classic scowling position, but now for reasons that most don't walk away from. And now, his fangs are bared. Snarling, he looks at both of his hands seemingly in a panic, before he pats down his black trench coat like it's on fire - he's looking for something. Before I can even [i]process[/i] what's going on so quickly, he plunges his hand into the pocket for the object, takes one or two lumbering bounds up the hill and just [i]hurls[/i] it clear out over the rest of the way, no doubt into the lake below, with a final, snarling, \n\n[b]``[i]FFFFFRRRRRRKKKKK!!!''[/i][/b]\n\nHis grit, gnashing teeth mangle the word, but it's obvious what he's expressing. Jogging up behind him, I follow as he takes the last few steps to the top and he places his hands on the wire railing. He lets out another sad noise - one I can tell is laced with hurt, and it rips me to pieces. I almost have to fight back tears myself. He turns to me:\n\n``She had the same...[i]birthmarks[/i], Sunny. The mole on her inner thigh? [i]No one else[/i] would know about that. I mean...it was right next to her...''\n\nI turn my head - just in time, thank God - to see him close his eyes lightly and shake his head...letting out a whine I know all too well. He turns back to the car, trudging down the hill. Out of curiosity, I look out to see what Rolex threw over the railing. Luckily the park lights were on: it was a mostly full pack of cigarettes, the little white sticks mostly spread out around the water. [i]Hmm.[/i] Looks like he just wanted to vent his frustration on something he could afford to lose. [i]Well, that [/i]is[i] the best way to kick a bad habit... [/i]\n\nI've had enough. \n\nMy footsteps are quiet on the grass, but they thunder in my head as I march down the hill towards my broken wolf. \n\nIt's become crystal clear to me now.\n\nHe's standing there, hand on the handle. ``She was...so close...standing right before me. Everything was exactly like her, but it [i]wasn't[/i]...''\n\nDrake wasn't the only one jarred by ``Ima's'' sudden reappearance. To have the love of your life suddenly appear before your eyes, in your home, in your [i]bed, [/i]so close to slaking your thirst after more than a decade...only to slip through your fingers...but [i]still[/i] be there to tempt you at every turn. It can turn [i]anyone[/i] insane.\n\n``Hmm?''\n\n[i]He's too pure of a soul to make the first move, girl. He's submissive. You help him take that first step.[/i]\n\nI finally reach him; as he turns to face me, I stay on the curb for the extra height.\n\n``Rolly...''\n\n``What, what're you - ''\n\n``Hm hm, shut up, you goof. Shut up, just shut the hell...[i]mmnn[/i]..''\n\n[i]It's okay.[/i]\n\nHe is [i]spring-coil[/i] stiff with my left hand curled around his ear and the back of his head, my right gripping the tie right at the join, and my lips on his. He's frozen, wide eyes looking back into mine, but I close them in response and push upward, moving against his. I can [b][i]feel[/i][/b] the tension evaporate from Rolex's soul as his body palpably deflates in my hands with a desperate, conflicted whine. \n\n[i]You need this.[/i]\n\nTentatively, his own lips move forward to close over mine, and meet the kiss properly. I move my left hand to cup the rest of that dreamful muzzle more, and the right to mirror it, while we slowly twist our heads to deepen it tenderly. Our lips work together to touch two more times before I pull away slowly, both of us opening our eyes to drown in our respective pools together.\n\n....[b][i][u]I[/u] need this.[/i][/b]\n\nI wait for [i]him[/i] to lunge forward this time before I meet him, mouths already gaped and tongues at the ready to lash. Our arms embrace each other almost naturally; his at my shoulders and back, mine at his head and near the bottom of his spine. I don't even have to look, I know his eyes are closed in relief. Our wet [i]smacks[/i] and ruffles of hands on heavy clothing are interspersed with excited panting and sucked in breaths. I hear his tail wagging furiously against the car door and I can't help but smile against his mouth, my tail doing the same. My hands move to his shoulders; I want all of him. His slide down the back of my spine, dear [b]God[/b]. Pulling me in like we're slow dancing at Homecoming. Ro-Ro, [i]my[/i] Ro-Ro, gives a firm buck of his hips and I gasp with a shudder - slick bastard uses that opportunity to overpower my tongue with his - I [b]feel[/b] it. Right there...this large burst of heat! I [i]feel[/i] it! \n\nSize Large Nike briefs. Bonobo dress pants. J. Crew Trench coat.\n\nWho [i]knows[/i] how many inches between us...\n\nKohl's department brand stretch pants with a nylon drawstring. Hanes women's underwear.\n\nAnd yet through [b][i]all that...[/i][/b]I feel a [i]distinctive[/i] hot [b]spike[/b] - a firm point stabbing right between us. Holy [i]shit[/i], biology really is a miracle! And even though it causes a wanting moan to spill forth, Rolex has no trouble swallowing it up.\n\nHis [i]taste...[/i]ohhhh, such a muted flavor, [i]barely[/i] bubbled from the cola at that bar...but the length of his tongue, combined with his pent up need, is unleashing thick globules of his insatiable drool, and I'm digging for every [i]fucking[/i] drop. We lap at each other like our water bowls are in each other's throats, and they might as well be. Rolex looses this sound...this deep, yet somehow still needful sound...as I firmly grind my pelvis against him and that rusty cop car of ours. A [i]moan. [/i]A moan of [i]want...[/i]from [i]Rolex Stone,[/i] and it's enough to cut my legs out from under me, [i]Jesus...[/i]\n\nI fall against him, relinquishing my ownership of his tongue and muzzle for the first time in....\n\n``Come on. Backseat.''\n\nI [i]genuinely[/i] don't know which one of us said that.\n\nI pop open the door, and while Rolex holds it open, working on his dress slacks, I hurriedly scooch in backwards, pulling my yoga pants down as rapidly as I can. Belatedly, I realize my shoes are still on, and kick each one off into the footrests. The pants then follow, some of my belongings sliding out of the pockets into the pile, immediately forgotten. I raise up to reach my panties when:\n\n``Sunny...''\n\nHe slowly crawls in over me; still dressed, but with his pants open. The car interior light casts a glow around him that both highlights and darkens his soft-eyed form draped over me. I'm [i]trembling[/i], and trying not to trigger an orgasm from this moment alone.\n\nBut then I look up at his face.\n\nHis eyes are open, brow in a nervous arch. The Adam's Apple in his throat gently bobs with his panting. The corners of his eyes are wet with fresh tears that threaten to fall down on me. I bite my lip, waiting for him to speak. His knees are tightly straddled around my waist, trying to salvage what little surface area of the backseat remains.\n\n``Everything in my l-life...has c-completely turned upside down.''\n\nI feel the pinpricks at my own widened eyes and ignore them.\n\n``My wife, my career, this town, my g-grip on reality, my - [i]my[/i] [i]son...''[/i]\n\nI reach for his fingers - both hands - and intertwine them with my own.\n\n``You.....you are the [i]only[/i] thing in my life that makes sense right now.'' The duct overfills, and his droplets roll down that immaculate muzzle. ``Sunshine, [i]please[/i] - ''\n\n``Rolex.''\n\nMy hands in his. His body weight hovering over mine. Emotions brimming within both of us.\n\n``I promise you, no matter what happens or doesn't happen tonight...[i]I'm not going [/i][b][i]anywhere[/i][/b]. You're my partner, and we're getting to the bottom of this, together. No. Matter. What.''\n\nHe blinks at that, dropping his jaw. And with that, he leans down slowly to resume kissing me. I'm wide open to receive him. We're passionate, but still tender; overwhelming love flowing between our tightly sealed maws. I've been dreaming about this moment for six fucking years, and his low, moaning grind of his hips against my sensitive pubic bone just sends me careening over the edge. Thankfully, I'm able to control my legs and prevent them from completely going ballistic, and my moans were already being gobbled up...but there's no mistaking the splash of wetness blooming between our respective underwear. [i]I...I don't think he no - [/i]\n\n``[b]Mmnnngg...''[/b]\n\n[i]Oh shit, he's grinding even harder...he [/i]absolutely[i] noticed! [/i]\n\nThat tenderness is quickly dissolved into an absolute frenzy, the both of us now [i]growling[/i] between our clicking fangs. I feel the heat between his legs returning, but cramped in the cruiser, it's [i]everywhere.[/i] I know he can feel mine, arching up to meet his own hips. Laying over this backseat, all our [i]thwicks[/i] and [i]mmhs[/i] and [i]smecks[/i] are much more pronounced, and louder. He pulls back unexpectedly, and I let out a startled cry, already missing his touch. ``Hang on...I've got a condom in the glove box.'' He hurries into the passenger side.\n\nI want to...I want to, [i]so[/i] badly. \n\nI want to tell him that I've been on birth control for a while now, and that it's completely safe for him to take me, unprotected. I want to feel every inch of that huge throbbing wolf cock coursing through me, every vein pulsating against my walls as he pistons right through me, and that [i]knot[/i] he told me about - I want to see it! As much as I want every millimeter of thick boiling lupine seed to fill me and bubble within the deepest recesses of my core...\n\nI don't want to scare him off. \n\nThis [i]is[/i] to clear his mind, after all...alleviate his stress and address his pressing need. [i]He's still married, child. You expect him to just run away with you after tonight? Just pack up, take you and Amber and Drake with him and whisk you all off somewhere? The perfect family? Will you [/i]ever[i] think above the waist, girl?[/i]\n\nShe's right...\n\nGoddamnit...\n\nI can't wedge myself between them...Ima [i]is[/i] his wife. He's in love with [i]her.[/i] Who would I be to take that away from him? No...no, I won't interfere. Once we find Ima - the [i]real [/i]Ima - I'll back down, and everything can just...go back to the way it was.\n\nIn the meantime, I'll just...indulge myself...just this once.\n\nI wipe my tears away just in time as Rolex returns, wrapped condom in his hand, pants fully unfastened and belt buckle jingling on the right side. Finally - Jesus Christ, [b][i]finally[/i][/b] - he slides his pants and sport briefs down together, once again joining me inside the sweltering cruiser. I can see his cock hovering between our bodies - hard, lengthy, mostly red as it twitches animatedly and constantly squirts tiny little jets of a clear liquid onto the bottom of my belly fur - [i]mmf[/i], his pre-cum! His damnable trench coat easily assists his towering frame in darkening my view of that object of so many of my recent fantasies, so unfortunately, I can't commit every centimeter to my eternal memory - at least not [b][i]this[/i][/b] time. What I have [i]no[/i] problem seeing, however...\n\nWhile Rolex's surprisingly steady hands busy themselves with the condom wrapper embroidered with the D.F.A. brand initials, I can't help but lick my lips at the enticing silhouette of his plump, large balls, still so full and heavy despite our halfway-hookup from the other day. They hang evenly, almost as if separate from his body, but not [i]all[/i] the way down - can balls float? With the car light casting such a heavenly glow off those bountiful orbs...yeah, that could be an upside-down halo!\n\nIt?s while the huffing wolf is half-knelt over me, wrapping the latex over himself that the cruiser decides it's had enough and kills the door light, plunging me and Rolex into darkness. I giggle a little, our eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. I squeeze my knees onto his waist with the little room we have. [i]Not the most romantic of places, but I wouldn't trade this for the world.[/i] \n\nMy breath catches as my sigh turns to whimpers up at him. I can't wait another minute. He eases on top of me, still eager, but sweetly restraining himself. Just before our chests flush together, I feel two strong, firm points of keratin gently pull my sodden panties to the side. A [i]shudder[/i] races through my body as I instinctively lift my back in a small spasm, and I'm suddenly glad I didn't have time to pull them off. Rolex uses that opportunity to slide a hand under my back, leveling my pelvis right in line with his throbbing latex-covered tip. That was the last thing I noticed before a searing hot warmth rippled through my body, and with a hard groan from him and a long, drawn out sigh of ecstasy from me, the first three inches of Rolex Stone's cock are pushed firmly against my inner labia, spreading them apart somehow with both simple ease and great strain. We're panting together, less from the physical exertion and more from the excitement of breaking nearly every taboo we've ever had all at once.\n\nRolex Stone, legendary nationally known hero detective, was [i]fucking[/i] me.\n\n \n\nIn the backseat of a beatdown Crown Victoria, in the pitch black deadness of night, in the middle of Langmore Park, Rolex Stone, legendary nationally known hero detective, was fucking [b][i]me.[/i][/b]\n\nHe eases us down gently, sliding in another inch or so. The indirect moonlight casts a blue hue across the bottom of his muzzle...oh, holy shit. Even if degenerative disease wastes my brain away in my twilight years, I will never lose this moment as long as I live. \n\nHis pushes are gentle, tentative and loving, but slow...I'd hesitate to even call them thrusts, with the pace he's setting. Don't get me wrong - it's not like that. I'm still [i]moooooaning[/i] as he stretches me out, nearing that famous knot of his - but gyrating up against him and trying to bump my clit against his pelvis; Rolex is holding back. The hand not propping his body up is on my shoulder, gripping me with care and tenderness, and despite being on top of me, the rest of his body is spread out carefully and evenly. Most of all, his dimly glowing buttery eyes are uncertain and jittery, like it's his first time. Drake is [i]living proof[/i] that that's not the case, but he's doing [i]everything[/i] in his power not to harm me.\n\nGoddamn, I love this man....but it's clear I'm his Jack and Coke.\n\n As soon as I feel the bump of his burgeoning bulb against my bud as our pelvises meet, I dislodge my right leg from the cushions, and meet it with my left over the layers of clothing he still has on. Before he even has time to yelp out in surprise, I hook my arms under his and pull the support out from them. It's only a few inches of space, but all of his weight - every delectable pound - collapses against me, and I can [i]feel[/i] him sneak an extra hard [b]buck[/b] of his hips in there with a groan! [i]Fuck yes, I knew it was deep down in there somewhere! Time to get it out of him. [/i]\n\n``Rolly.''\n\nHe gawks down at my soft seductive grin.\n\n``I'm not gonna break. But...I want you to [i]try[/i]. Now, show me what you have buried inside you, Rolex - [b][i]crush me into the seats.[/i][/b]''\n\nI hiss it into his ear, and he shudders like someone threw him in a frozen pond. It's punctuated with a hungry growl, and like a damn cannon he lets loose. Heavy, powerful thrusts start to rock in and out of me, as the dire wolf grunts, snarls, and lets out a strained groan of pure [i]relief.[/i] I make the embrace whole, blissfully yelping with each powerful impact as I tightly pull my arms around his shoulders and join him in his passionate song. Every deep-voiced, yet quavering [i]moan [/i]spilling out of him and pouring over me is ingrained into my thoughts and memory banks - why didn't I record this!? None of it matters; my faculties are coming back to me and they're only telling me one thing: [b][u]deeper.[/u][/b] As Rolex barrels into with a throaty groan, I flex my ankles and launch my own hips up to meet his force. He almost falters in his rhythm to look at me in surprise, and I flash him a big toothed grin from ear to flushed, sweaty, horny ear. A grin he [i]matches.[/i]\n\nHe gives me another kiss, a quick one this time. When he pulls back, he's picking up his thrusting again, and I, his partner, am matching him for every hard buck of his hips. Our eyes are locked on one another, initially in a smirked staring contest, but quickly melting into whispered pants and concentrated grimaces. \n\nThat cock...his [i]magnificent[/i] cock...like molten fire! Coring me like an apple! We're both warm-blooded creatures, making the car swelter with our body heat, so [i]how[/i] is that throbbing pole of his an entirely different and separate feeling kind of heat!? With Rolex burying his bone into me - literally, I distantly realize, since canine penises have a thick rigid bone inside them - he lunges for me. I open my mouth, thinking he's pressing in for another kiss, but it turns out to be the perfect chance to gasp inward and bellow out a needy moan, as he latches onto my neck. Canines comb through my fur! Sharp fangs redden the skin beneath! His tongue lashes [i]insatiably[/i]...\n\nAnd I fucking [i]lose[/i] it.\n\nWith a wail, I come, lifting both of us off the seat by our waists, splashing our conjoined genitals and clenching at his thinly covered rod, the fully swollen bulge pressing insistently against my labia. My yell takes me out to space...but I'm quickly tugged back to earth when I hear Rolex's whines turn to grunts...then seethes. ``R-Rolex? Are y - [b]unnh[/b]!''\n\nHis hands are suddenly under the small of my back, lifting my waist up higher. Without warning, he fires into vicious jackhammer fucking that slams that fat knot against my lips faster and faster - nailing my engorged clit every time. Without my brain telling them to, my legs tighten around his back. Ohhh, fuck...he's not done yet. Oh god...yes! He's not DONE! \n\nThose hips pick up lightning speed, I feel his large balls [i]thwap-pap-poompf![/i] against the inside of my thighs, his growling takes on a guttural rattle...\n\nAnd I feel his teeth clench tighter around my throat. \n\nMy eyes bug out as my airway starts to close uncomfortably. It's not completely cut off yet, but he's cinching tighter as each reaming grind pushes his knot harder and harder. I'm whimpering, but I can't tell if it's from paroxysmal aftershock...or worry. [i]No, he's my partner, my best friend...and my lover. He [/i]won't[i] hurt me. I just need to hold on for him. Just need to hold...o-ohh...ahhh!!! Shit...shit, I can't...I can't breathe...[/i]\n\n``Rrr...ll...x.....''\n\nI start trying to push at his shoulders...I didn't have this problem a minute ago...when did...I hear...rushing in my ears...just...stop worrying. He feels so nice, wrapped up like this...the heat of his breath on my neck...I'll...I'll be...fi - \n\n[i]AAAAAAAHHHHHH\n\n[/i][b][i]POP![/i][/b]\n\nAir floods into my passageway all at once...and what feels like a goddamn apple swallows up into my pussy with a noise that I'm sure can be heard from miles away. Awareness swirls into me one sense at a time: the feel of being spread so wide since giving birth to my little girl. The sight of the cruddy felt cloth above us and the plastic casing protecting the inactive lightbulb within. Hearing Rolex Stone, mid-[i]roar,[/i] as the fantasy I've always dreamed of expands and plugs itself right within me. Smelling the musk and the scent of [i]fuck[/i] emanating between us. And again, feel. Although the warmth of his thick seed spreading through me is regrettably absent, I can feel the tapered latex barrier between us, swelling greatly as it works its damnedest to hold in overworked, pent-up, legendary detective seed. We pant each other's air in, foreheads pressed together. Each of Rolex's huffs and puffs is accompanied by a tired moan. He really needed this. I don't know how many orgasms I had when he was so furiously plugging me...but judging by how strong the breeze is between our legs, I make a mental note to get the seats [b][i]deep[/i][/b] cleaned. Otherwise, the next person we arrest is going to be in for the freakiest, most awkward ride of their lives. \n\nUncurling my legs from his sweat-soaked coat, I rub the back of his head with my hand, the fur of which suddenly bristles. He yanks his head back in a sudden panic. \n\n``Sunny!? Jesus, I'm so sorry...I just blacked out and lost control, I - \"\n\nI lean up, and lick the front of his nose...slowly. It stops his frantic concern. My eyes were already closed, but I expertly slide my tongue back into his mouth tenderly. He sighs through his nose - silently this time - and reciprocates. We're both too tired to get too into it, so we lazily slide palates back and forth together for a handful of seconds. We pull back and I grin at him, wrapping his tie around my finger and playing with it.\n\n``You've got a bit of a [i]kinky[/i] side, Rolex Stone.'' Enough of his tie ends up in my grip to make a fist.\n\n[i]Mmm...that is it. [/i]Fuck[i] indulgence. I'm going to find a way for there to be a next time...and a time after that. And over and over. And we [/i]will[i] find a way to...[/i]\n\nTightening my hold on him, I pull until our noses bump together. ``I [i]like[/i] it.'' \n\nHe offers an exhausted smile, and gently parts the bangs over my simmering expression, whispering: ``Sunshine Summer Rays.'' My eyes must be shimmering for him to lean down and plant a chaste kiss on my damp forehead while he continues to play with my hair. ``Don't you ever stop surprising me.''\n\n``I promise I won't, partner.''\n\n``And Sunny....[i]thank you[/i].''\n\n``Mmm, no Rolly. Thank [b]you.[/b]''\n\n[i]Forever and ever, my special, big bad wolf.[/i]\n\nI settle for a hug this time, knowing that if I just stay patient, I can have the world with him. I sigh dreamily against the warmth beside me, around me, and [i]deep, [/i][b][i]deep[/i][/b] inside me, still pooling in that steadfast barrier. I giggle into his left ear, which flicks at the new stimuli. ``So, big guy...are we really stuck together for a half an hour like you said?'' \n\nHis eyes wander for a very brief moment, before remembering our conversation on New Year's Day. Probably [i]more[/i] than that...you're squeezing on me pretty rhythmically...and it doesn't help that you feel [i]incredible. [/i]\n\nYou've long had the girl, lover-boy. Still, you've earned that kiss on the bridge of your muzzle. ``Mmm, what time is it?'' \n\nHis face resets to that neutral rest - even while knotted and squirting within me - and pats his coat pocket for his cell phone. ``23:49.''\n\nI perk my head up in surprise at how the time flew by. Partially sitting up, I reply: ``Ooh, God. Grab my phone; let me call the kids and check up on them.'' I know Amber was just joking, but hormonal teens by themselves this late at night? They really [i]might[/i] try something with each other knowing they'd be alone for hours. Rolex leans back a little, jiggling the connection between us a bit, but not causing much discomfort as he pats down in the dark. \n\n``I don't feel it on the floor; I'll just call it.''\n\n``Okay, thanks.''\n\nHis phone makes three of the default keyboard clicks before my eyes explode open, realizing my mistake.\n\n``Wait, hang o - ''\n\n[i]Dial tone...\n\nBwee-oo, bwee-oo. Bwee-bweep![/i]\n\nRolex's head moves with the speed of a CCTV camera towards my frozen expression, his facial features cast-iron flat.\n\n[i]Bwee-oo, bwee-oo. Bwee-bweep!\n\nAhhhh, [/i][b][i]shit[/i][/b][i].[/i]\n\nI let my head fall to the cushion.\n\n[i]Bwee-oo, bwee-oo. Bwee-bweep![/i]\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Bwee-oo, bwee-oo. Bwee-bweep!

I smirk.

Knowing him, he'd probably roll his eyes or flatten his stare if he found out that I made his custom ringtone a police siren. Never have to worry about that, though; if he's here, he wouldn't be calling me. If he'd be calling me, he wouldn't be here to hear it! There's a simple elegance in its' logic.  

``Uh-oh. Mr. Stone, calling that late? That can't be good news.''

I unwrap my left arm from behind my daughter Amber's back as I get up off our couch, letting her continue the movie without me. Letting out a tired sigh as my bones and muscles wake up, I reply to her: ``Eh, he's probably calling with some updates on the Crabapple Case. He's a lot more focused on it since it hits closer to ho - ``

Covering the wallpaper of my bright-eyed little treasure beaming alongside me, wearing matching shirts that read `My Daughter/Mom Gave Me Crabs At Rockaway Beach', is his notification - not a missed call, but a text message.

...Oh!

9:46 PM: I'm downstairs. I need to talk to you. We won't be long.   -R.S.

I smile, shaking my head. I've met quite a few people in my short life, over my travels and experiences, but Rolex just might be the only person in the universe who actually goes into his phone's settings and uses the signature option for his text messages. I type a quick response while walking towards my shoes at the door. Based on the wording of the message, it sounds like he wants me to go with him somewhere, obviously off the clock.

9:48 PM: Drake w/ you?

9:48 PM: Yes. -R.S.

Makes sense. The other day, Ima Stone - Rolex's wife, who had been missing for fourteen years - just appeared out of nowhere; bringing with her a mystery house that also materialized out of thin air, with indoor lights that put Vegas to shame, and some wacko cult that claimed to grant people their deepest wishes as long as they had no sins in their heart. My partner was understandably too overcome with shock at first, but it barely took him a few hours to come to his senses: that woman was an impostor hack and that nut house was a crock full o' shit. We've been investigating the place and its activities ever since, and over the past few days, I've been keeping his teenage son, Drake, at my house, at the meantime. I wouldn't want my daughter to be left alone with her father either...for a multitude of reasons.

Shaking my head to clear the smog, I reach into my pocketbook and fish out a couple of twenties, and leave them on the counter, just in case they want some pizzas instead of leftovers.

9:51 PM: K. Down in a minute.

``I'll be back in about an hour or so, Aim!'' The thirteen-year-old turns over in the couch to acknowledge me.  ``Drake's coming upstairs, I've left some pizza money on the counter in case you guys get hungry. Please don't burn the apartment down, okay?'', cocking an eyebrow at her as I turn and head to the apartment door.

Out of the corner of my eye, her face brightens with excitement, and she flops back onto the couch. ``Yes! And don't worry, Mom - we'll find a ton of stuff to do to each other! By ourselves! While you're gone! You did say you wouldn't be back until morning, right?''

Even though I know she's joking - she'd only recently told me that she wasn't really attracted to boys - every hair on my body instinctively jumps on my body at once, and I'm pretty sure my tail tip touched the ceiling. I turn to her with a flat scowl. She stares right back at me, her eyes half lidded in a smug sneer, and even with the couch hiding her face, I can tell the little monster's mischievous smile is melting the cushion.

I fold my arms at her. ``Okay. You know what?''

Her eyes narrow to a squint, which can only mean her grin behind the couch has grown to Chesire Cat proportions. The Book of Revelation had it all wrong: Four Horsemen, my ass - the apocalypse would herald solely from one 18-year-old Amber Rays.

I chuckle wearily, wishing her a good night, opening the front door and leaving it unlocked before jogging downstairs, though I'm tempted to just call Rolex off and wrap my little troublemaker up in a million straightjackets like a Looney Toon. Rolex's police car is parked in front of the apartment staircase, a beaming Drake Stone wiggling in the back.

``Hey, Ms. Ray!''

``Hey there, Whirlwind,'' I smile warmly at him. ``How's it going? Keepin' the gray wolf gray?'' I jerk my head at the perpetually flat glower of Rolex Stone, stonefaced in the driver's seat.

``Yyeahh...'' He looks down, more than a little sheepish.

I whisper loudly, intentionally making sure my partner hears the dramatic irony. ``What's got Chuckles so upset?''

``Wellll...we're late, because it took him about twenty minutes to empty out the back of the car after what happened last time.''

It slipped out.

My brain had no idea, and my nerve gave no permission.

I tried to catch it with my paws, but it was far too late.

I didn't mean to laugh. I certainly SHOULDN'T have laughed, because I could already tell by the glow on his face that it only encouraged him. And the searing glare as Rolex turned to look at me...

The last time Drake rode in the backseat of the cruiser, he had had a day off from school and Rolex offered to take us to lunch. It was a surprisingly nice day out, and regrettably, I was the one who had opted to roll the windows down so we could enjoy my namesake. We had gotten distracted discussing some case or other, who knows what. But the second we hit the town square, that devilish whirlwind of his dove into Rolex's gear bag, grabbed the first pair of handcuffs he could find, somehow managed to cuff himself behind his back, then practically went feral pretending to be a psychotic gangbanger resisting arrest.

Well, with the windows down in the center of the city, several members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences were impressed enough to nominate him on the spot and called our office to `negotiate with his agent', and even though Rolex put a stop to Drake's antics rather quickly, exactly forty-nine minutes later, all three of us were getting masticated like a garbage disposal in Chief Cortez's office. I had to practically bite my tongue in half to keep myself from laughing throughout the whole ordeal...but once we got back to the patrol car and discovered that Drake didn't know which handcuffs he grabbed, so he didn't know which key would unlock them?

Let's just say I got my ab crunches in for the entire month.

I open up the backseat, watching Drake happily scamper out. ``Alright get outta here, delinquent - get upstairs before we both go missing.''

``Okay...''

``And don't stay up too late, either!'' I yell after his bounds up the stairs.

``Got it, Ms. Sunshine!''

Popping the passenger door open, I slide in and buckle my seat belt. ``Okay, partner. Where you taking me that's so important this late?''

Not that I mind it's you.

He says nothing at first, shifting the car into drive, then pulling forward to leave the complex. ``I just...need some solid ground for a minute...I need you, Sunny.''

God...damn! Every neuron in my head fires two shockwaves of flushing heat across the front of my face and down the back of my spine, and they know where they're meeting for coffee. I try my best to suppress the shudder that follows. Is strapping, brooding young detective Rolex Stone finally gonna make his move tonight? He knows that I've been harboring this...desire for him for a long time...it was bound to happen anyway. Spending so long with each other on the job, a bond develops. And you can't help but feel a...pull. A longing. While I wish he had given me a little time to prepare - I know I look a mess - it'll be well worth it when we finally cross that line...together. Calm down, girl. Focus. Deep breath, out through the mouth, that's it.

I move my hand to his thigh, stroking it slowly up and down, making the message loud and clear:

``Of course. Whatever you need me for, anything - I'm yours, Ro-Ro. Always.''

*****

I've gotta find something to whack him over the head with.

Almost twelve minutes of monosyllabic responses and Calvin Klein model stares out the window, and he pulls into some frou-frou restaurant and heads for the bar!? Come on!

Well, at least the place was nice...what was the name of it again? Attirance? Eh. Some fancy junk with hard to pronounce names...Coke a Veen, Beef Birmingham, quiches....boo..wee...la..base? Whatever. Real hoity toity crap. He had picked a spot next to the window, overlooking the gloomy night of Banks, and I of course sat on the stool next to him.  He must've wanted the perspective. I had already eaten at home, so I had ordered a Sprite with one of my powdered drink mixes; I'm mostly done with mine. He's nursing a lowball glass of Jack and Coke, though `nursing' is beyond generous of a term - he's barely had a sip and a half, he's been so lost in repose. If he hadn't already paid for the damn drink, I'd think he'd ordered it just to look cool and moody. But no, even his lips are still dry - I'd surely know.

...Fuck this, I have to ask him. It's overstepping, but considering these circumstances...

``What happened, Rolly. Was it...more of the same from the other night?''

He silently turns to look at me. His face and jaw is unreadable, but his eyes project this....this small blip of something I can't really place. He's right to look at me that way - I'm getting way too deep into his personal life. Pretty much the night that ``Ima'' returned, she was desiring the warmth and comfort of her darling betrothed. Understandable, of course - it had been more than a decade and change. But by then, Rolex had caught onto the truth, and he had refused. To keep her guard down and prevent raising suspicion, he had told her that he was simply overwhelmed and exhausted with emotion, considering everything...but that was a few days ago. She'd been coming on to him every night since, and he was running out of plausible excuses while he tried to find the...hmm.

Now I understand that shimmer in his expression.

It looks like hurt feelings, so I soften the blow as best I can: ``I know...that it's a difficult subject. And I can't imagine what you're going through - Jesus, no one can. But we're going to figure this out. You called me to talk, and that's what I'm good at. Come on, let's get that noggin up and runnin'!''

One smmmaaalll, imperceptible upturned corner. Yep, I've got him. That's all I need.

He's got me beaming in response. I wiggle my butt a little bit closer - as close as I can get without falling off a tiny round stool, anyway - take a big gulp of my powder mixed drink and get my small pad ready.

``Okay. So, creepy house just pops up in the middle of a farm in the middle of the night. No generator, but the interior is lit up like a flashbang and had cameras recording the place. The Crabapples call us in a panic - ''

``Like they normally do.''

I give a short but prideful smile at the first full sentence he's said since picking me up tonight.

``Yep, like normal. Then a few minutes later they show up with that coyote saying he's with them?''

``So, they're in on it?'' Rolex ponders, sliding his cocktail to the side while facing me.

``Or being held against their will. The mister never explained that head injury; that can't be a coincidence.''

``Either way...''

``Yep. Suspects, too.'' I notice Rolex is swirling his drink around, still not drinking it, but with that ice melting, it's only going to drown further. His pupils are drifting back and forth....reading. ``What are you thinking?''

``Ginger Oaks, the neighborhood saint. She was by far the easiest to convince to join their ranks and lose...whatever sin she had rattling around inside that pious head of hers.''

I lean on a fist while nipping the straw between my teeth to freshen up my vocal cords. ``What, think she's running an underground egg smuggling ring?''

``I think...'' He brings the glass up to his mouth, pauses, then reconsiders, putting it down. ``I think if their ulterior motives were out in the open, or if she were to know about them...she'd be the first to try and bring it down - either through us, or her army of barren bible-thumpers. Whatever they're doing, they're hiding it pretty well.''

I chuckle. ``Of course, they hide their evil while suckering in hundreds, Rolly - it's a religious organization.''

``My sides,'' he replies dryly. I stick my tongue out at him. Rolex finally brings the glass to his mouth to drink once more, then his face contorts in a grimace.

Yep. Flat. He puts the lowball on a coaster and shoves it to the side, done with the watered down drink.

He continues, ``So they win her over by telling her what she wants to hear, and feeding her pie in the artificial sky through some robo-helmet that costs more than both our cars. Who else?''

``That goat kid, Peter - who was playing hooky to check the place for himse - "

``Ahh, shit...I forgot to call the school after him that day...''

I flash him one of my daughter's Chesire grins. Damnit, I thought I was the mom, here... ``I told you, I've got your back, partner! I checked in with the front desk back at the office.'' He smiles gratefully as our eyes meet. ``So, he said he wanted a million followers online. I haven't checked the kid's profile recently, but I'm sure they can find some way to round up a bunch of fake accounts.''

``Hmm, so fame and recognition...''

``And finally, our favorite skin flautist from earlier, Walter. Won't tell us what his `sin' was, but that wacko cult gives him a check for four million dollars? And it clears!?''

He spins to me, and there it is: the once-in-a-blue-moon look of surprise and shock, on Mr. Rolex Stone. A rare reminder that his eyelids do, in fact, fully open.

``Yeah. Sarah called earlier today, left a voicemail on the office phone.''

Sarah, being Sarah Smith, was the bank teller who was responsible for processing the mysterious check handed down from so called on high - with our permission, of course. It went without asking, but I told her to call us as soon as there were any updates. Unfortunately, the bank closed before I could call her back.

``So...word nerd got his wish, too...''

``Yep. So, wealth, fame, and recruitment through validation. What do they all have in common? Money. This cult is being backed by somebody who's rich, bored, and knows just enough to rope a town into thinking they're the answer to their prayers. And expect a whole lot more back.''

``But I didn't hear them say anything about money exchanging hands, Sunny.''

``Well, you know how to get `em addicted, Rolly. First taste.''

Whatever smile on his face slowly starts to drain, and the mood falters quickly.

``So, then...how does Ima fit into all of this?''

My own smile dies pretty quickly, too. He's the only exception. I look down at my now empty glass. Everyone else got tangible results - or at least, things that can be bought with tangible results. My eyes pop open as another thought crosses my mind. Everyone asked for those things. How could they possibly know what Rolex would want, and that he would be there to witness it? I mean...how can they -   

``I mean...'' Rolex begins, interrupting my thought by somehow finishing it: ``How could they seemingly get every single detail of her...so close? Even the marks on her body? I...I just don't understand...''

He buries his nose in his paws, framing it with his fingers as he stares down at the bar. I mirror his pose, also trying to figure out his specific case. ``Hmm...maybe they st - "

I stop myself. This time, I stop myself, thank God.

Jesus God, Sunshine! What the fuck were you thinking!? `Stole Ima's autopsy records and hired someone to pose as her'!? That's irrational, even for you. And it's sick! First off, we don't even know if Ima is dead or not; nothing conclusive has been reported. And even if she had died, obviously Rolex would be the first to know about it! Just...get this out of your head, Summer - you're letting your jealousy go too far.

``Haah...m-maybe they st-arted with a special case. I know you moved out here to this little town, but...you're still very famous in the police world, Rolex. Maybe they read up on you, and just...gathered as much information as they could and filled in the blanks. You know reports and tabloids leak more than they should.'' I rub his back and feel how tense and tight it is. God, how many days has he been so guarded like this? ``There's gotta be some explanation.''

He only shakes his head. I can't blame him.

``So, then.... how did I get...her?''

I stare sympathetically as my troubled friend lets out this ragged scoff of disbelief. He can't help but repeat himself:

``Just...how did I get her, Sunny...how did I get her? No one else got...''

 He gives up with a pained sigh. I complete the hug, wrapping my arm around his left shoulder and simply snuggling my head in on the right, as we stay silent. His normally furrowed brows are even, straight, and soft. The tall wolf's eyes shut tight, shaking his head foggily as though my arm is the only buffer between the atlas on his shoulders. It hurts...it fucking hurts, seeing him like this. Especially knowing the reason: His wide-eyed excitable Whirlwind. If it weren't for Drake, Rolex would be able to shrug this off easily and not let it affect him so deeply. Fourteen years gave him plenty of time to retain focus, keep hope and most importantly, sharpen his mind. But with his son's life being entangled in his work...his greatest motivation has now become his Achilles heel.

We're not going to get much further tonight - it's best to come at this case with fresh eyes in the morning, find a few trees to kick and catch the resulting mess. It's time we got back home. I look behind Rolex's back at the general direction of the so-called miracle house. Its lights aren't visible from this angle of course, but the eerie dread is definitely enough to visualize an unsettling glow from that area, as if to taunt us. I harden my glare and stand up, patting my partner on the back. ``Come on. Let's get out of here, I'll drive you home.'' I offer, despite both of us knowing that his blood alcohol content was practically negative. But to my deep surprise, he doesn't object. I start the car and pull out, making a mental note to come back to this place later, under better circumstances.

*****

The mood gets even more grim as I head to Rolex's apartment complex - taking the `scenic route', so to speak - to give him time to think and prepare for what he might say to Ima when he gets there. Not a word has passed between either of us since we left the restaurant. How the hell do you break that tension, anyway? So, we opt for silence. The cruiser headlights cut through the pitch-black seas ahead of us, drifting back and forth over the road. Out of the corner of my eye, I occasionally see Rolex staring out the window, but I keep my eyes forward, not wanting to intrude on his thoughts. Soon though, they seem to be too much for him, as I see movement to my side. He squeezes his eyes shut, and shakes his head a couple of times, breath shaky. I know better than to ask if he's -

``Stop, stop the car.''

I pull over immediately, without question and pop the locks. I'm unbuckling my seatbelt, but he's already out the door and a couple of steps away from the car, and I can hear his panting from inside. As I go around the front of the car, I briefly take in our surroundings: it's hard to see with my body blocking the lights, but it looks like I pulled up to Langmore Park - pretty cozy walking bit, but the main focal point is an elevated ledge overlooking a big lake. The road we were on cuts right through the side of the park with that cliff edge.

When I reach him, he's clutching his head and pacing a few feet away, between the cruiser and the bottom of the hill. Running his hands through the top of his headfur, his breath comes out in shaky sobs.

``It doesn't make sense...''

``Rolex - ''

``I don't get it!! HOW can they...grr - "

His eyes burn with a fury that I only see in nature documentaries. His brows are back in that classic scowling position, but now for reasons that most don't walk away from. And now, his fangs are bared. Snarling, he looks at both of his hands seemingly in a panic, before he pats down his black trench coat like it's on fire - he's looking for something. Before I can even process what's going on so quickly, he plunges his hand into the pocket for the object, takes one or two lumbering bounds up the hill and just hurls it clear out over the rest of the way, no doubt into the lake below, with a final, snarling,

``FFFFFRRRRRRKKKKK!!!''

His grit, gnashing teeth mangle the word, but it's obvious what he's expressing. Jogging up behind him, I follow as he takes the last few steps to the top and he places his hands on the wire railing. He lets out another sad noise - one I can tell is laced with hurt, and it rips me to pieces. I almost have to fight back tears myself. He turns to me:

``She had the same...birthmarks, Sunny. The mole on her inner thigh? No one else would know about that. I mean...it was right next to her...''

I turn my head - just in time, thank God - to see him close his eyes lightly and shake his head...letting out a whine I know all too well. He turns back to the car, trudging down the hill. Out of curiosity, I look out to see what Rolex threw over the railing. Luckily the park lights were on: it was a mostly full pack of cigarettes, the little white sticks mostly spread out around the water. Hmm. Looks like he just wanted to vent his frustration on something he could afford to lose. Well, that is the best way to kick a bad habit...

I've had enough.

My footsteps are quiet on the grass, but they thunder in my head as I march down the hill towards my  broken wolf.

It's become crystal clear to me now.

He's standing there, hand on the handle. ``She was...so close...standing right before me. Everything was exactly like her, but it wasn't...''

Drake wasn't the only one jarred by ``Ima's'' sudden reappearance. To have the love of your life suddenly appear before your eyes, in your home, in your bed, so close to slaking your thirst after more than a decade...only to slip through your fingers...but still be there to tempt you at every turn. It can turn anyone insane.

``Hmm?''

He's too pure of a soul to make the first move, girl. He's submissive. You help him take that first step.

I finally reach him; as he turns to face me, I stay on the curb for the extra height.

``Rolly...''

``What, what're you - ''

``Hm hm, shut up, you goof. Shut up, just shut the hell...mmnn..''

It's okay.

He is spring-coil stiff with my left hand curled around his ear and the back of his head, my right gripping the tie right at the join, and my lips on his. He's frozen, wide eyes looking back into mine, but I close them in response and push upward, moving against his. I can feel the tension evaporate from Rolex's soul as his body palpably deflates in my hands with a desperate, conflicted whine.

You need this.

Tentatively, his own lips move forward to close over mine, and meet the kiss properly. I move my left hand to cup the rest of that dreamful muzzle more, and the right to mirror it, while we slowly twist our heads to deepen it tenderly. Our lips work together to touch two more times before I pull away slowly, both of us opening our eyes to drown in our respective pools together.

....I need this.

I wait for him to lunge forward this time before I meet him, mouths already gaped and tongues at the ready to lash. Our arms embrace each other almost naturally; his at my shoulders and back, mine at his head and near the bottom of his spine. I don't even have to look, I know his eyes are closed in relief. Our wet smacks and ruffles of hands on heavy clothing are interspersed with excited panting and sucked in breaths. I hear his tail wagging furiously against the car door and I can't help but smile against his mouth, my tail doing the same. My hands move to his shoulders; I want all of him. His slide down the back of my spine, dear God. Pulling me in like we're slow dancing at Homecoming. Ro-Ro, my Ro-Ro, gives a firm buck of his hips and I gasp with a shudder - slick bastard uses that opportunity to overpower my tongue with his - I feel it. Right there...this large burst of heat! I feel it!

Size Large Nike briefs. Bonobo dress pants. J. Crew Trench coat.

Who knows how many inches between us...

Kohl's department brand stretch pants with a nylon drawstring. Hanes women's underwear.

And yet through all that...I feel a distinctive hot spike - a firm point stabbing right between us. Holy shit, biology really is a miracle! And even though it causes a wanting moan to spill forth, Rolex has no trouble swallowing it up.

His taste...ohhhh, such a muted flavor, barely bubbled from the cola at that bar...but the length of his tongue, combined with his pent up need, is unleashing thick globules of his insatiable drool, and I'm digging for every fucking drop. We lap at each other like our water bowls are in each other's throats, and they might as well be. Rolex looses this sound...this deep, yet somehow still needful sound...as I firmly grind my pelvis against him and that rusty cop car of ours. A moan. A moan of want...from Rolex Stone, and it's enough to cut my legs out from under me, Jesus...

I fall against him, relinquishing my ownership of his tongue and muzzle for the first time in....

``Come on. Backseat.''

I genuinely don't know which one of us said that.

I pop open the door, and while Rolex holds it open, working on his dress slacks, I hurriedly scooch in backwards, pulling my yoga pants down as rapidly as I can. Belatedly, I realize my shoes are still on, and kick each one off into the footrests. The pants then follow, some of my belongings sliding out of the pockets into the pile, immediately forgotten. I raise up to reach my panties when:

``Sunny...''

He slowly crawls in over me; still dressed, but with his pants open. The car interior light casts a glow around him that both highlights and darkens his soft-eyed form draped over me. I'm trembling, and trying not to trigger an orgasm from this moment alone.

But then I look up at his face.

His eyes are open, brow in a nervous arch. The Adam's Apple in his throat gently bobs with his panting. The corners of his eyes are wet with fresh tears that threaten to fall down on me. I bite my lip, waiting for him to speak. His knees are tightly straddled around my waist, trying to salvage what little surface area of the backseat remains.

``Everything in my l-life...has c-completely turned upside down.''

I feel the pinpricks at my own widened eyes and ignore them.

``My wife, my career, this town, my g-grip on reality, my - my son...''

I reach for his fingers - both hands - and intertwine them with my own.

``You.....you are the only thing in my life that makes sense right now.'' The duct overfills, and his droplets roll down that immaculate muzzle. ``Sunshine, please - ''

``Rolex.''

My hands in his. His body weight hovering over mine. Emotions brimming within both of us.

``I promise you, no matter what happens or doesn't happen tonight...I'm not going anywhere. You're my partner, and we're getting to the bottom of this, together. No. Matter. What.''

He blinks at that, dropping his jaw. And with that, he leans down slowly to resume kissing me. I'm wide open to receive him. We're passionate, but still tender; overwhelming love flowing between our tightly sealed maws. I've been dreaming about this moment for six fucking years, and his low, moaning grind of his hips against my sensitive pubic bone just sends me careening over the edge. Thankfully, I'm able to control my legs and prevent them from completely going ballistic, and my moans were already being gobbled up...but there's no mistaking the splash of wetness blooming between our respective underwear. I...I don't think he no -

``Mmnnngg...''

Oh shit, he's grinding even harder...he absolutely noticed!

That tenderness is quickly dissolved into an absolute frenzy, the both of us now growling between our clicking fangs. I feel the heat between his legs returning, but cramped in the cruiser, it's everywhere. I know he can feel mine, arching up to meet his own hips. Laying over this backseat, all our thwicks and mmhs and smecks are much more pronounced, and louder. He pulls back unexpectedly, and I let out a startled cry, already missing his touch. ``Hang on...I've got a condom in the glove box.'' He hurries into the passenger side.

I want to...I want to, so badly.

I want to tell him that I've been on birth control for a while now, and that it's completely safe for him to take me, unprotected. I want to feel every inch of that huge throbbing wolf cock coursing through me, every vein pulsating against my walls as he pistons right through me, and that knot he told me about - I want to see it! As much as I want every millimeter of thick boiling lupine seed to fill me and bubble within the deepest recesses of my core...

I don't want to scare him off.

This is to clear his mind, after all...alleviate his stress and address his pressing need. He's still married, child. You expect him to just run away with you after tonight? Just pack up, take you and Amber and Drake with him and whisk you all off somewhere? The perfect family? Will you ever think above the waist, girl?

She's right...

Goddamnit...

I can't wedge myself between them...Ima is his wife. He's in love with her. Who would I be to take that away from him? No...no, I won't interfere. Once we find Ima - the real Ima - I'll back down, and everything can just...go back to the way it was.

In the meantime, I'll just...indulge myself...just this once.

I wipe my tears away just in time as Rolex returns, wrapped condom in his hand, pants fully unfastened and belt buckle jingling on the right side. Finally - Jesus Christ, finally - he slides his pants and sport briefs down together, once again joining me inside the sweltering cruiser. I can see his cock hovering between our bodies - hard, lengthy, mostly red as it twitches animatedly and constantly squirts tiny little jets of a clear liquid onto the bottom of my belly fur - mmf, his pre-cum! His damnable trench coat easily assists his towering frame in darkening my view of that object of so many of my recent fantasies, so unfortunately, I can't commit every centimeter to my eternal memory - at least not this time. What I have no problem seeing, however...

While Rolex's surprisingly steady hands busy themselves with the condom wrapper embroidered with the D.F.A. brand initials, I can't help but lick my lips at the enticing silhouette of his plump, large balls, still so full and heavy despite our halfway-hookup from the other day. They hang evenly, almost as if separate from his body, but not all the way down - can balls float? With the car light casting such a heavenly glow off those bountiful orbs...yeah, that could be an upside-down halo!

It?s while the huffing wolf is half-knelt over me, wrapping the latex over himself that the cruiser decides it's had enough and kills the door light, plunging me and Rolex into darkness. I giggle a little, our eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. I squeeze my knees onto his waist with the little room we have. Not the most romantic of places, but I wouldn't trade this for the world.

My breath catches as my sigh turns to whimpers up at him. I can't wait another minute.  He eases on top of me, still eager, but sweetly restraining himself. Just before our chests flush together, I feel two strong, firm points of keratin gently pull my sodden panties to the side. A shudder races through my body as I instinctively lift my back in a small spasm, and I'm suddenly glad I didn't have time to pull them off. Rolex uses that opportunity to slide a hand under my back, leveling my pelvis right in line with his throbbing latex-covered tip. That was the last thing I noticed before a searing hot warmth rippled through my body, and with a hard groan from him and a long, drawn out sigh of ecstasy from me, the first three inches of Rolex Stone's cock are pushed firmly against my inner labia, spreading them apart somehow with both simple ease and great strain. We're panting together, less from the physical exertion and more from the excitement of breaking nearly every taboo we've ever had all at once.

Rolex Stone, legendary nationally known hero detective, was fucking me.

 

In the backseat of a beatdown Crown Victoria, in the pitch black deadness of night, in the middle of Langmore Park, Rolex Stone, legendary nationally known hero detective, was fucking me.

He eases us down gently, sliding in another inch or so. The indirect moonlight casts a blue hue across the bottom of his muzzle...oh, holy shit. Even if degenerative disease wastes my brain away in my twilight years, I will never lose this moment as long as I live.

His pushes are gentle, tentative and loving, but slow...I'd hesitate to even call them thrusts, with the pace he's setting. Don't get me wrong - it's not like that. I'm still moooooaning as he stretches me out, nearing that famous knot of his - but gyrating up against him and trying to bump my clit against his pelvis; Rolex is holding back. The hand not propping his body up is on my shoulder, gripping me with care and tenderness, and despite being on top of me, the rest of his body is spread out carefully and evenly. Most of all, his dimly glowing buttery eyes are uncertain and jittery, like it's his first time. Drake is living proof that that's not the case, but he's doing everything in his power not to harm me.

Goddamn, I love this man....but it's clear I'm his Jack and Coke.

 As soon as I feel the bump of his burgeoning bulb against my bud as our pelvises meet, I dislodge my right leg from the cushions, and meet it with my left over the layers of clothing he still has on. Before he even has time to yelp out in surprise, I hook my arms under his and pull the support out from them. It's only a few inches of space, but all of his weight - every delectable pound - collapses against me, and I can feel him sneak an extra hard buck of his hips in there with a groan! Fuck yes, I knew it was deep down in there somewhere! Time to get it out of him.

``Rolly.''

He gawks down at my soft seductive grin.

``I'm not gonna break. But...I want you to try. Now, show me what you have buried inside you, Rolex - crush me into the seats.''

I hiss it into his ear, and he shudders like someone threw him in a frozen pond. It's punctuated with a hungry growl, and like a damn cannon he lets loose. Heavy, powerful thrusts start to rock in and out of me, as the dire wolf grunts, snarls, and lets out a strained groan of pure relief. I make the embrace whole, blissfully yelping with each powerful impact as I tightly pull my arms around his shoulders and join him in his passionate song. Every deep-voiced, yet quavering moan spilling out of him and pouring over me is ingrained into my thoughts and memory banks - why didn't I record this!? None of it matters; my faculties are coming back to me and they're only telling me one thing: deeper. As Rolex barrels into with a throaty groan, I flex my ankles and launch my own hips up to meet his force. He almost falters in his rhythm to look at me in surprise, and I flash him a big toothed grin from ear to flushed, sweaty, horny ear. A grin he matches.

He gives me another kiss, a quick one this time. When he pulls back, he's picking up his thrusting again, and I, his partner, am matching him for every hard buck of his hips. Our eyes are locked on one another, initially in a smirked staring contest, but quickly melting into whispered pants and concentrated grimaces.

That cock...his magnificent cock...like molten fire! Coring me like an apple! We're both warm-blooded creatures, making the car swelter with our body heat, so how is that throbbing pole of his an entirely different and separate feeling kind of heat!? With Rolex burying his bone into me - literally, I distantly realize, since canine penises have a thick rigid bone inside them - he lunges for me. I open my mouth, thinking he's pressing in for another kiss, but it turns out to be the perfect chance to gasp inward and  bellow out a needy moan, as he latches onto my neck. Canines comb through my fur! Sharp fangs redden the skin beneath! His tongue lashes insatiably...

And I fucking lose it.

With a wail, I come, lifting both of us off the seat by our waists, splashing our conjoined genitals and clenching at his thinly covered rod, the fully swollen bulge pressing insistently against my labia. My yell takes me out to space...but I'm quickly tugged back to earth when I hear Rolex's whines turn to grunts...then seethes. ``R-Rolex? Are y - unnh!''

His hands are suddenly under the small of my back, lifting my waist up higher. Without warning, he fires into vicious jackhammer fucking that slams that fat knot against my lips faster and faster - nailing my engorged clit every time. Without my brain telling them to, my legs tighten around his back. Ohhh, fuck...he's not done yet. Oh god...yes! He's not DONE!

Those hips pick up lightning speed, I feel his large balls thwap-pap-poompf! against the inside of my thighs, his growling takes on a guttural rattle...

And I feel his teeth clench tighter around my throat.

My eyes bug out as my airway starts to close uncomfortably. It's not completely cut off yet, but he's cinching tighter as each reaming grind pushes his knot harder and harder. I'm whimpering, but I can't tell if it's from paroxysmal aftershock...or worry. No, he's my partner, my best friend...and my lover. He won't hurt me. I just need to hold on for him. Just need to hold...o-ohh...ahhh!!! Shit...shit, I can't...I can't breathe...

``Rrr...ll...x.....''

I start trying to push at his shoulders...I didn't have this problem a minute ago...when did...I hear...rushing in my ears...just...stop worrying. He feels so nice, wrapped up like this...the heat of his breath on my neck...I'll...I'll be...fi -

AAAAAAAHHHHHH

POP!

Air floods into my passageway all at once...and what feels like a goddamn apple swallows up into my pussy with a noise that I'm sure can be heard from miles away. Awareness swirls into me one sense at a time: the feel of being spread so wide since giving birth to my little girl. The sight of the cruddy felt cloth above us and the plastic casing protecting the inactive lightbulb within. Hearing Rolex Stone, mid-roar, as the fantasy I've always dreamed of expands and plugs itself right within me. Smelling the musk and the scent of fuck emanating between us. And again, feel. Although the warmth of his thick seed spreading through me is regrettably absent, I can feel the tapered latex barrier between us, swelling greatly as it works its damnedest to hold in overworked, pent-up, legendary detective seed. We pant each other's air in, foreheads pressed together. Each of Rolex's huffs and puffs is accompanied by a tired moan. He really needed this. I don't know how many orgasms I had when he was so furiously plugging me...but judging by how strong the breeze is between our legs, I make a mental note to get the seats deep cleaned. Otherwise, the next person we arrest is going to be in for the freakiest, most awkward ride of their lives.

Uncurling my legs from his sweat-soaked coat, I rub the back of his head with my hand, the fur of which suddenly bristles. He yanks his head back in a sudden panic.

``Sunny!? Jesus, I'm so sorry...I just blacked out and lost control, I - "

I lean up, and lick the front of his nose...slowly. It stops his frantic concern. My eyes were already closed, but I expertly slide my tongue back into his mouth tenderly. He sighs through his nose - silently this time - and reciprocates. We're both too tired to get too into it, so we lazily slide palates back and forth together for a handful of seconds. We pull back and I grin at him, wrapping his tie around my finger and playing with it.

``You've got a bit of a kinky side, Rolex Stone.'' Enough of his tie ends up in my grip to make a fist.

Mmm...that is it. Fuck indulgence. I'm going to find a way for there to be a next time...and a time after that. And over and over. And we will find a way to...

Tightening my hold on him, I pull until our noses bump together. ``I like it.''

He offers an exhausted smile, and gently parts the bangs over my simmering expression, whispering: ``Sunshine Summer Rays.'' My eyes must be shimmering for him to lean down and plant a chaste kiss on my damp forehead while he continues to play with my hair. ``Don't you ever stop surprising me.''

``I promise I won't, partner.''

``And Sunny....thank you.''

``Mmm, no Rolly. Thank you.''

Forever and ever, my special, big bad wolf.

I settle for a hug this time, knowing that if I just stay patient, I can have the world with him. I sigh dreamily against the warmth beside me, around me, and deep, deep inside me, still pooling in that steadfast barrier. I giggle into his left ear, which flicks at the new stimuli. ``So, big guy...are we really stuck together for a half an hour like you said?''

His eyes wander for a very brief moment, before remembering our conversation on New Year's Day. Probably more than that...you're squeezing on me pretty rhythmically...and it doesn't help that you feel incredible.

You've long had the girl, lover-boy. Still, you've earned that kiss on the bridge of your muzzle. ``Mmm, what time is it?''

His face resets to that neutral rest - even while knotted and squirting within me - and pats his coat pocket for his cell phone. ``23:49.''

I perk my head up in surprise at how the time flew by. Partially sitting up, I reply: ``Ooh, God. Grab my phone; let me call the kids and check up on them.'' I know Amber was just joking, but hormonal teens by themselves this late at night? They really might try something with each other knowing they'd be alone for hours. Rolex leans back a little, jiggling the connection between us a bit, but not causing much discomfort as he pats down in the dark.

``I don't feel it on the floor; I'll just call it.''

``Okay, thanks.''

His phone makes three of the default keyboard clicks before my eyes explode open, realizing my mistake.

``Wait, hang o - ''

Dial tone...

Bwee-oo, bwee-oo. Bwee-bweep!

Rolex's head moves with the speed of a CCTV camera towards my frozen expression, his facial features cast-iron flat.

Bwee-oo, bwee-oo. Bwee-bweep!

Ahhhh, shit.

I let my head fall to the cushion.

Bwee-oo, bwee-oo. Bwee-bweep!

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