FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sideswiped

copyright comidacomida 2023

All his life, Clay's parents had pushed the importance of a good education. Throughout high school they reiterated the need for him to go to college and get a degree-- it would open up the world for him and allow him to make something of himself. Both his parents had high school educations and had done so-so for themselves; they weren't hurting financially and managed to have a steady home at a rental house they'd lived at for over ten years, but they wanted more for him.

They had saved up, and, ultimately, managed to have enough of an investment in Clay's future that he was able to attend school. For art. Traditional art. With a focus on art history, art appreciation, and visual concepts. The total cost of his education was nearly $200,000 and, from what he heard, he got off easy. Having burned through his parents' reserves during the first part of his third year, Clay owed almost $70,000 and his job prospects were next to nothing. He hated himself after graduation.

Right out of college he pushed for all of the best jobs possible for someone who liked to fancy himself an artist but, he learned quickly, striking it rich by making the next contemporary masterpiece was about as likely as winning the billion dollar jackpot. Within a month he got a job stocking shelves at the local big box store. It paid the bills... barely. He still lived at home so he could afford his student loan payments. He spent most of his forty minute commute into work fighting back tears; life sucked. On one specific Tuesday, things got even worse.

Having just taken the on ramp onto the freeway, Clay had just slid into the middle lane, but quickly grew frustrated with the minivan ahead of him; he hated when out of state drivers lingered in the faster lanes. Flipping on his blinker as he transitioned to the leftmost lane, the young man cried out the moment he heard the sound of metal-on-metal and his car was pulled further into the lane; he'd never been in a car accident before, but it didn't take much imagination to realize what had happened.

The other driver had already pulled onto the shoulder-- the leftmost section of the roadway separated from oncoming traffic by a thick, concrete divider. Clays Geo Metro was over 20 years old and was hardly in the best condition to begin with-- having inherited it from his dad, it was something of a family heirloom, but he hated it. Parking just ahead of the other vehicle, the young man gazed into his rear view mirror and his heart sank; the vehicle he'd hit was a BMW... and it looked NICE. He'd spent months commuting to his job in near-tears, but, on that day, he surrendered to them. Sitting in his seat, Clay cried.

He didn't know how long he sat in a sorrowful stupor, but an assertive rap on his window caught his attention. Looking up with a start, Clay did a double-take, staring right into a pair of amber eyes split by pencil-line-thin pupils. Standing outside of his car was a Tiger wearing a suit that likely cost more than the young man's car. The feline's expression had been one of displeasure and agitation but, as their eyes locked, it was swept away with an almost benevolent magnanimity... followed by a paw raising a handkerchief.

Realizing that he'd have to face the other driver eventually, Clay went to lower his window... only to find that the impact had caused the track to jam. Letting out a sigh of resignation, the young man took the plunge and slowly opened the door, apologizing with a simple explanation "I think my window's broken."

The Tiger took the statement surprisingly well. "Fortunately neither of us appear to be harmed... in the scheme of things, I would count that as a win. Here."

The handkerchief was offered and Clay, still shaken from the accident, accepted it. The moment his fingers closed around the fabric he marveled at the feel. So caught up in the cloth, he didn't even bother wiping his eyes. "Th-thanks."

The young man remained in shock through much of the interaction; fortunately the Tiger seemed to know how to handle everything. Clay answered each of the other driver's questions, provided his identification and proof of insurance in response to the Tiger doing the same. Clay remembered staring at the man's ID. His name was Addison Baldwin; he was indeed a Tiger; he looked taller than the 6'5" on his license-- the young man hated himself immediately when he called out in disbelief "You're fifty one?!"

The Tiger, who had been standing beside him taking a pic of Clay's ID and insurance card with his phone loomed over him, gazing over his shoulder. "Oh... fifty technically. My birthday is next month. You don't think I'm too old to be driving now, do you... young man?"

Clay simultaneously wanted to laugh his brains out and curl up in a ditch and die. He had no idea how the Tiger could be handling things so casually. He realized that the other driver was jesting, but why? How? They'd just been an accident! The Tiger's VERY NICE car had a huge dent in the side and several nasty scratches down a third of the length. Opening his mouth to respond, Clay could manage nothing but a fresh set of tears, followed by a seemingly endless amount of sobbing.

He lost track of what happened next but, at some point, a tow truck appeared. It was one of the long, flat-bed ones and, before Clay knew it, both cars were being loaded onto it. Only then did the young man snap out of his fugue state long enough to recognize danger in the form of yet more unanticipated expenses. "My insurance won't cover towing! It's liability only and I--"

The Tiger beside him waved away the concern. "My car has to head to the mechanic's anyway-- they don't charge that much more for two cars."

That did not bring Clay any comfort. "I can't afford a mechanic!"

Almost as if teasing him, the massive feline clasped a huge, furred paw on the Human's shoulder. "You need to have a working window... think of the difficulty trying to go through drive thru if it doesn't roll down."

Clay found himself hating that he didn't hate the Tiger-- more so that the Tiger didn't hate him.

* * * * *

Gauging the light in the room, Clay began to set up his easel. It wasn't the first time he'd been to Addison's very impressive home, and it wasn't the first time the Tiger had commissioned a piece from him, but the latest visit was far different from the rest. The three months after the car accident had been a whirlwind of chaos and change. In addition to being in the car accident, Clay had made a very unlikely friend. After losing his job at the store, his prospect of paying Addison back for the repairs seemed unlikely, yet the Tiger, having treated the young man to lunch, had learned that Clay had gone to university to study art-- Clay had worked for him ever since.

The initial artwork had ranged from still lifes-- the kind that were more suited to boring studies or museums than in the possession of a middle-aged year old Tiger who often acted like he was more Clay's age-- the Human shuddered as he prepared his paits; their trip to a rally track turned out to be an hour training session that got them behind the wheels of high performance sports cars; the Tiger was a certified pilot and took Clay on a trip up the coast in his private jet; the first time Addison took him sky diving was even worse because the young man very nearly threw up.

He remembered all the trepidation and the fear-- the expectation and the worry. All of that was completely wiped from his mind, vastly overshadowed after the sound of the side door opening heralded Addison's approach. Looking past his easel, Clay's mouth went dry; his friend stood before him wearing nothing but a bathrobe and the thick fur in which he was born. Smiling easily, revealing his sharp teeth, Addison asked "So... how do you want me?"

Clay never recalled a time when such a poorly (or well?) phrased statement caused affected him so strongly. Managing to avoid coughing but failing to keep his paint brushes from spilling out of the cup in which he held them, the young man used the opportunity that collecting them offered to find his center and recover from the overwhelming sensations that his continued interactions with Addison always seemed to instill in him. When he finally managed to find the last brush (and his voice), he gestured toward the sofa he'd pushed into position. "On the couch is fine."

Addison moved to the spot with the same surreal grace Clay had come to expect of the big cat, finding himself focusing far more on the Tiger than finishing with the rest of his set up. The young man watched in rapt attention as his host got into position, turning to arrange some of the pillows. The Human was mesmerized by the movement of Addison's tail, flicking and twitching this-way-and-that, seemingly in time with some unheard music almost like an orchestral conductor-- the Tiger, he realized, certainly had a strong command of him. His reverie was broken when Addison spoke up. "I know you've been wanting to balance out that silly debt you insist on paying back... by my calculation this last piece should have you free and clear."

Clay's heart immediately beat with joy then, almost simultaneously wilted; despite having gone through hell the day he met Addison, he had to admit that the Tiger had brought so much more into his life for having been in it. Attempting to hide the sudden bout of melancholy that struck him the artist only nodded, aiming for a casual vibe as he shrugged. "Yeah... sounds about right."

His host offered up one of his cheeky grins which had become so familiar to the young man over the prior months. "Don't go doing a half-assed job on this one now... it'd be a shame to conclude your commissions on bad terms."

The thought had never crossed Clay's mind and, as a dedicated artist it was an insult. "I would never--"

Whatever else he was about to say completely dissolved into background noise in his mind the moment Addison slipped the belt free of his robe and the cloth cascaded down his body to the floor; beneath it, the Tiger was so naked it hurt to look at. Clay had to make a subtle adjustment to remedy that discomfort. He felt his ears redden when the statement came unbidden to his lips. "Wow."

Chuckling casually, Addison flopped down onto the sofa, reclining with his legs slightly spread. "I never get tired of hearing that... not that I get many opportunities, but, still..."

Clay felt for a moment like he was a phony; the Tiger in front of him was already a work of art-- all he was doing by painting his employer was copying it. Addison was still quite fit for his age; his body was lightly padded with a thin layer of middle-age pudge, but nowhere near enough to hide his muscle, and every inch of his fur was meticulously kept. Shaggier toward his abdomen, the fur was also lighter in color, and slowly drew the young man's eyes down to-- he felt his whole face flush. "Wow..."

Addison kicked one leg up onto the cushion, letting the other remain on the floor. The resulting move further accentuated the generously sized sheath perched between his legs, and the shift of his hips caused his testicles to roll across the couch, accentuating their heft. The Human didn't realize he was staring until the Tiger spoke up. "Now you're just plain trying to flatter me, Clay."

The young man had to swallow twice against his constricted throat. "I can't believe you're fifty..."

The Tiger chuckled anew. "Fifty one... you were at my birthday party, kid... don't tell me you forgot. And here I thought I made an impression."

Clay did drop his brush at that; the memories came flooding back as he considered what had to have been one of the hottest nights of his life. While he'd originally expected that most of Addison's friends were probably stuck up elites, he should have known better; the Tiger certainly didn't fit that description. The birthday party consisted of a dozen participants-- including Addison and Clay. The young man was welcomed into the social circle immediately as if he'd always been part of it.

The majority of Addison's friends were closer to his age, but there were a few out-layers-- one late 60s Lion as well as a Human and a Kinkajou, each probably in their early 30s. The night had been fairly easy-going to start but, after a few drinks, some silly games began and, ultimately, a game of truth or dare-- Clay honestly felt like Addison was far too old chronologically for his life outlook. One thing led to another, and Addison ended up getting dared to kiss one of his guests-- the recipient was Clay.

The young man cleared his throat, eyes focused on his easel as he began to paint-- the thoughts continued in his mind unbidden. He remembered that moment, burned into his mind with the heat of a nuclear reactor. He played it over and over again-- the feel of Addison's soft muzzle fur against his lips-- the errant scratch of one of the Tiger's whiskers against his cheek-- the taste of the sweet cocktail his benefactor had been drinking, and the exponential increase in its flavor as the 'birthday boy' slid his broad, sandpapery tongue into Clay's mouth.

Clay hadn't pulled away, and neither did Addison; the young man still thought about the feel of the Tiger's purrs vibrating through his body every time he masturbated to that memory. He paused in his painting as his hand began to grow shaky. Glancing back to his reference model, the Human's breath left him as if he'd been punched in the gut; the light may have been dimmed by the heavy curtains blocking the wall-sized windows on the opposite side of the room, but the several inches of pink flesh peeking out of Addison's sheath was unmistakable.

The Tiger's smirk revealed that he knew where Clay was looking. Reaching down to coddle the half-withdrawn sheath with one paw, Addison offered something that didn't sound much like an apology. "You'll have to forgive me, Clay... I was just thinking about the present you got me..."

"I didn't get you a--"

The Human's words petered out as he realized what Addison meant: after they'd disengaged, Clay had thought his host had spoken in jest when he said "That was the best gift I got all night."

Despite being half way across the room from his patron, Clay could still hear the Tiger's soft, hypnotizing purr. Somehow managing to muster up ever last bit of control he had, the Human managed to offer up a feeble defense against his benefactor's charms. "If you don't stay still, I won't be able to paint you..."

Addison had a response ready. "If you don't finish that picture then you won't need a new excuse to spend time with me." The purring paused, and Clay noticed the first hesitant pause he had ever recalled hearing from the Tiger. "... presuming you would still like to spend time with me?"

* * * * *

It was mid-day when the painting session had started, but it lasted scarcely an hour. Clay awoke to the dim light of evening casting a single ray of golden light across the floor from behind the sofa where he lay; Addison's arm was wrapped around his mid section and the Tiger's hot breath came out as soft, stable puffs against the top of his head. Clay had a number of temporary boyfriends in college-- all of them significant smaller (in all ways) than Addison, but he never remembered feeling so comfortable after being with them.

He would have been lying to himself if he were to think that the act was completely painless with his new friend-turned-lover; there was certainly a lot of sharp, searing pain in the beginning, but Addison was careful, and it very quickly transitioned into pure bliss. The Tiger was not only a capable lover, but a generous one at that. Addison was attentive, and careful-- skilled, but also exuberant. His joyful reverie was disrupted as the Tiger's broad, sandpapery tongue caressed the back of his head. "You alright, Clay?"

Slowly rotating in Addison's grasp, Clay pressed his naked body against the huge furry form in front of him, happily willing to get lost in it. "Mmm... just... thinking."

The Tiger's easy laugh brought even more joy to the Human; his moods were infectious. Leading forward to snuffle through Clay's hair, Addison pressed him further, playfully. "That can be a dangerous thing, you know."

The young man rubbed his face against the firm-yet-fluffy chest in front of him. "Did you know this would end up happening the day we met?"

Addison pulled back just enough that he could look down at Clay; the Tiger's eyes glimmered in the half-light, partially due to the big cat's natural night vision, but also due to more humor. "Not the slightest but, to be honest, I'm glad you 'ran into me'..."

The Human offered a half-hearted smack to the Tiger's shoulder, then let out a soft sign. "I... I just-- out of everyone I could have it, it was the nicest fucking Tiger in the world... you were so patient... and kind... and generous..."

Addison rumbled softly, grazing Clay's forehead with a gentle kiss. "Was? I'd like to think I still am."

Clay felt his eyes brimming with tears as he regarded the Tiger. "Life was just... so fucked up. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong... it felt like there wasn't any further I could go in that direction and then, suddenly, I get in that accident and I'm thinking 'Okay-- this is it. I was wrong. It will only get worse'.... and then.... there you were."

The Tiger was still purring, pulling Clay even closer. Although the first time was said in jest, the repeat was far more purposeful. More meaningful. More intimate. "I'd like to think I still am."

The next question from the Human was a whisper. "Why? Why were you so god damn nice to someone who just ruined your day?"

The young man watched the glowing eyes peer down at him, quirked up at the edges by a warm smile. "You didn't ruin my day, Clay... you ruined a few minutes, sure. You added some complications, definitely... but, I always measured my quality of life by how much good I can put out in the world, and you REALLY looked like you needed some at that moment. The moment you turned toward me I just knew that I couldn't bear seeing you cry."

Almost managing to laugh, Clay instead responded by breaking down into a fresh set of tears, gripping Addison tightly and squeezing him as if letting him go would make him disappear. When he finally could manage to find his voice, the young man managed only two words. "Thank you."

They shared another kiss... and another... and another. Clay never did end up finishing the portrait of Addison, but the incomplete piece was ultimately posted above their bed.