Dear Michaela,


        For so long I’ve read stories about people who catch eyes from across crowded rooms and fall in love, or lust, or some other thing that people like to tell stories about.  I’ve read cockamamie lies about guys my age who stumble on all-girl orgies and get invited to join.  I never really aspired for that.  But I’ve read stories about people who meet, find they enjoy each other, and move slowly in their relationship, instead of meeting and immediately starting to fuck like rabbits.  Those are the stories I like.


        You see, I’m not the kind of person who those more risqué stories should ever happen to.  I’m a half-Great Dane and half-coyote, my fur is red, I’m 5’11”, and 260 lbs.  I’m too poor for the nice shampoo, so my fur is dull and a little shaggy. I’m not as strong as I should be, and I’m not as smart as the other people in my classes.  Basically all I have is my personality, but it sucks just like the rest of me.  I’m also hill-folk, and that doesn’t help me any because three-quarters of my classmates are from Knoxville or Nashville or Atlanta or some other big city, so of course they all think I’m retarded.  I’m an anime geek, a game nerd, and a karate person on top of it.  I am a neon yellow sign that says “LOSER.”


        Things finally started to change a little for me when I volunteered to do technical work for the play my college was putting on.  I learned carpentry from my dad, fixing things that I had broke, so I knew I could be of some help.  When I got there I was amazed at the amount of weird people there.  People like me.  There were girls there that did things; real things like working at liveries and doing electrical work.  Of course there were actors there, helping as best as they could.  They could paint, if nothing else, and their company was fun.


        I met a cat-girl named Ashley who set me on fire as soon as I saw her.  Her fur was brindle; her eyes were yellow like topaz.  She was bi-sexual and made remarks and flirted with the other girls all the time.  That drove me crazy.  She also hated the one guy in the theater I hated, so that was a plus.  The thing I liked most about her though was her attitude.  If she was pissed at you, she’d punch you and then it was over.  I like that.  She wasn’t like a woman in that respect.  She acted on the emotion instead of holding it in until her period when she would have blown in an explosion of anger and sadness and menstrual blood.  But she did act on her anger constantly.  She would stop what she was doing and cross the room just to punch you in the arm for saying something stupid, and I liked that.  I talked to her as much as I could trying to convince her to do something with me,(Do people still go to the movies?) but with us both in college and with her taking five or six classes at once she never had time for me.  But I did manage to get alone with her once.


        Mr. B, our Theatre teacher is a skinny little squirrel-man.  He sent me out to move signs.  I was “the guy with the truck,” so despite me being one of four people out of the fucking dozen there who actually knew jack shit about anything, I got sent on the fetch quests.  But my ignorance paid off for once, because I needed to take a sign to Kingston.  I didn’t know how to get to Kingston, so Mr. B sent Ashley with me.  On the way there I did what I thought women liked, I asked her about herself.  I listened intently as she told me about her father and how she didn’t see him enough.  She told me about her little sister and her grandmother.  Then she started talking about Donald, the guy we hate.  Turns out they were together for a while and had recently broken up, but he was still being a dick about everything.  She told me that everything was her fault.  She acted hurt and angry and sad.  I nodded, and I acted supportive, and I kept listening even though I knew she didn’t want anybody right then.  I’m nice like that.


        We sat in the parking lot of the supermarket resting for a minute before we headed back to school.  It had gotten late so we had gotten some food and were nibbling at it while the sun went down.  The supermarket was near a bridge, and the way we had parked we could see the sun coming down on the lake.  I knew for a fact she didn’t want me so I didn’t think there was any harm at that point in telling her how I felt.


        As I watched the sunset I told her everything I felt.  I told her how much I loved her hands, with their cracks and blisters from working both in the theater and at home gardening.  I told her how I loved her little nose and how it curved down a little more than it should, and how her bright yellow eyes always grabbed me away from whatever I was doing to give them their attention.  I told her I loved her big fuzzy ears, especially the left because it was missing a little piece about halfway up.  I mentioned each and every thing about her that I loved, and by the time I was through I had covered the crown of her head to the pads on her feet with my deepest affections.


        I did all of this while watching the sunset.  I didn’t notice her lean over to me.  I didn’t notice how close she was until I felt her breath on my face.  By the time I realized, she was kissing me.  After nineteen years someone finally kissed me.  I turned to face her and she pushed me back against the door while climbing on top of me.  She nibbled on my ear while she pulled up my shirt.  I could tell she was surprised how much muscle I actually had under my soft forty-four inch stomach.  I gripped her firm little butt in my right hand and pulled her in tight.  She was so little I could wrap my left arm around her and hold her right shoulder in my hand.  She bit at my neck while she rubbed my crotch over my pants.  I just so happened to open my eyes and notice her ear right there in front of my face.  I licked it and she twitched all over, like a chill.  I took the hint and started rubbing and nibbling and licking her ears as she spasmed and moaned into my chest.  After what felt like an hour of this, she jumped off of me and started wriggling out of her jeans.  I decided then might be a good time to get out of mine too.


        I got out of mine first and got to watch her wrestling with her tight little jeans.  Her butt wasn’t big at all, but those jeans were tight as hell.  She asked me to help and I did what I thought was best.  I had her to get out the window about up to her waist and push out with her arms while I pulled her pants off.  It worked, kind of.  She almost fell out of the window when her pants let loose of her.  Then she got back in and we rolled the window back up.


        There she was.  Sitting with her back against the door of my truck in her panties and a tank top with no bra.  She put her leg up on the seat between us; opening herself up for me.  She started rubbing up and down her slit through her panties, getting them wet and revealing her beautiful little pussy underneath.  She leaned toward me then grabbed a handful of fur on my chest and gently pulled me toward her.  She held my big Dane jowls softly as she guided my head down to her furry mound.  I licked her a few times through her panties, and then she reached down and pulled them to the side giving me full access to her glistening wetness.  The taste was amazing.  I’d never tasted a woman before, but have since.  Every time I still think “It‘s not her.  It‘s not Ashley.”  I licked her lips, then slowly started going deeper each time, until I was tonguing the entrance to her womb.  She wrapped her tail around my face and ground herself against me so hard I couldn’t breath and I had to come up.


        “We needed to stop anyway.”  She said, “You need your turn if we’re gonna get out of here tonight.”


        She picked me back up by my chin and laid me back against the door.  I was already as hard as I could get when she straddled me, with one knee on the bench seat and one foot on the floorboard.  All she had to do was peel the sheath back from my ten-inches and take me inside.  She did it so slowly it was painful.  I could feel her heat from an inch away.  Her dripping on me made me crazy.  She finally touched the tip of my dick to her entrance, and ever so slowly sat down on me.  I’ve wondered since if she went slowly for my sake, or if my size hurt her.  Her tail wriggled and writhed behind her, rubbing the inside of my legs and brushing against my big Dane balls.  She finally got to my half-swollen knot and stopped.


        “That’s not going in me.”  She told me.  “ Sorry.”


        “It’s alright.”  I said.


        Then she started moving.  I thought I had felt as tight as it would get, but as she started moving more quickly and got more aroused she started tightening even more, until it started to hurt a little.  She wrapped her hand around my sheath like a softball and squeezed hard.  She turned around with her but facing me, still gripping my knot like a vise.  


        “I’m gonna cum!”  I hollered.


        Just as I was going to shoot she got off of me and shot her butt back towards my face and swallowed my cock.  We laid there for fifteen minutes, her drinking all I had until I had finished, and I drinking what seemed like pints of her juices.  Finally I went down and she got off of me.  We put our clothes on and sat there for a minute.


        “I really like you Jo, but not that way.”   She said nonchalantly.  “I hope you won’t be weird from now on.”


        I put it off and said, “We’d better get back to school now, huh?”


        She nodded and we went back to school.  Work was done so I dropped her off at her car and went home.   I cried like a bitch for about four hours that night.  I had finally been kissed by someone, finally made love to someone, and it meant absolutely nothing to her. 


        That’s why I don’t like that kind of story.




                Thank you for reading,
                Kemosabe1