A fox-squirrel runs into one of those trashy rat girls. Surprise surprise, she TFs him. Explicit.
The doors started to close, then stopped and pulled back. Fortune stepped into the elevator and tapped the brass button for the fifteenth floor. The bed was waiting for the fox-squirrel up in his room, where he could rest his legs and feet before dinner. Probably Italian food, he thought—it seemed fitting while he was in the city, even if he'd had pizza for lunch for the same reason.
He looked from the doors up to the number three which slid up to four, then to the other person standing in the elevator with him. The way her ass jutted out in the thin black dress made it beg to be squeezed, and the way one of her knees was crooked, lifting one of her tall black heels off of the ground, seemed almost inviting. Her pink tail swayed from side to side behind her. The dress ended just below her shoulder blades, amid the thick curls of her black hair, while on top of her head, a pair of rounded ears held up heavy golden hoops.
The rat woman ran her pinky finger along the underside of her eyes, clearing up her thick eyeliner using the polished brass as a mirror. She glanced up, seeing Fortune staring at her over her shoulder.
"What're you looking at?" she asked. The Brooklyn accent shouldn't have worked for Fortune, but it fit her style.
The rat woman looked dirty. Not playful, look-at-me-aren't-I-kinky dirty. She was the sort of trashy girl he wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole unless both he and the pole were wearing condoms. He didn't want to know where those plump, blood-red lips and prominent front teeth had been, what had been on and between those heavy breasts that her dress thrust outward, or who had squeezed between those shapely thighs. The bright eyeshadow and heavy, black eyeliner gave her a look that might have said 'come hither' but lacked the elegance to keep from saying anything but 'get over here and fuck me'. She was everything bad and decadent about sex, poured into a dress that hopelessly tried to make her look a little more refined.
Fortune's throat was dry and his tongue tumbled over his words.
"I-I wasn't didn't mean to your—"
"No," the rat said, cutting him off, and gesturing from her head to her waist with a jingle of her fake gold bracelets. "What're you looking at? You into tits or oral or ass or what?"
Fortune's tail curled around his ankle. She was only taller than him because of her heels, and even despite his rather slight frame, he probably could overpower her if he needed to. But her casual attitude and the way she oozed trashy sex intimidated him all the same.
"Thanks but I'm not really looking for a, uh, an escort right now," Fortune said.
"You think I'm a fucking hooker?" the rat snapped.
Fortune's mouth hung open a half-inch. A blush hid behind his yellow fur. He couldn't tell what the rat wanted. He made a noncommittal noise and the rat rolled her eyes.
"You can't tell the difference between a whore and girl who's down?"
Fortune squeezed out, "I'm sorry, I'm just here to visit," as if that had any relation to anything she said. It was just as baffling as the situation he was in.
"I'll show you some sights," the rat said. And then she was on him. He was pushed up against the wall, her lips on his, one hand on his shoulder and one hand in his pants. Her claws gathered the yellow fur on his shoulder and tugged and dug against his skin and her teeth nipped the tip of his tongue. Fortune breathed in a mixture of cheap vodka, cigarette smoke, and the cloying scent of sex. How she ended up smelling like a dive bar orgy by four in the afternoon was beyond him.
But she was amazing. Her scratches made the fur on his back bristle, her roving tongue could flick around his in quick acrobatic motions, and her paw moved along his shaft with practiced strokes, fingers tightened and then looser and then tight again.
By the time their lips parted, they were in one of the hotel rooms, and it wasn't Fortune's room. The rat tossed her purse down by the bed, then reached for her back and unzipped her dress in one smooth motion.
As she peeled the black fabric away from her breasts, full and swollen mounds which looked neither obviously fake nor completely natural, she said, "I'm Maria. How 'bout you?"
"I'm Fortune," he said. He stared at her toned midsection, the slow twisting of her stomach and her hips, as she shed her dress entirely. Naked except for her heels and jewelry, Maria sat on the edge of the bed. With a hand behind her and her chest puffed out and her lips pouted and one hand pulling open her folds, the rat girl looked like everything wrong with sex. Despite her insistence that she was not a whore, she oozed that sickly-strong overdone whorish sexuality.
And Fortune was hard. Was it because she was hot or she was so forward or there was something in her smell? He couldn't tell but he wanted her now, even as reluctant as he'd been before.
"You coming, squirrel boy?" Maria asked. Egh, that accent cut across his fantasies. But even with that sharp Brooklyn edge, he couldn't stay away. Fortune dropped his pants around his feet and tugged off his shirt and tossed aside his underwear.
"Squirrel-fox," he pointed out.
"Whatever," Maria said.
As Fortune stepped closer, her thighs locked around his waist and her arms wrapped tightly around his back. His shaft pressed into her, sliding into the rat's warm, damp folds. Maria licked her lips eagerly.
Hair by hair, Fortune's fluffy, striped tail thinned out and left shed fur on the ground behind him. Maria's claws scraped his scalp as she pulled him in for a kiss in order to mask the sensation of his incisors growing larger.
Maria rocked against Fortune's body, moving in twists and bounces filled with energy. She was fucking him more than he was fucking her. When her hips touched his and he was buried to the haft inside of her, he swore he could feel how used her body was—not that she wasn't tight. He could feel her pussy clinging to his shaft with every thrust. It was bound up in her motions, the ease with which she moved and the casual look in her eyes that told him how often she had been hanging off of some man's cock.
Stretching like a spandex top around a set of fake boobs, Fortune's muzzle grew longer and narrower, nose thicker and now a smooth black. His ears were no longer long and pointed but shorter, more rounded, and more rodent-like.
Maria's claws gripped Fortune's chest tightly. He stared into her eyes, stared at her bouncing hair and the way her earrings danced in the light and ignored the gentle push of his slimming waist and the new weight that his hips gained.
Fortune's cries twisted into a higher tone and gained a nasal edge. The yellow from his fur was fading, shifting to a rich brown color much more like Maria's fur. His brown stripes darkened instead to black.
His tail was bare and pink by now and his hands and feet had likewise lost their fur. Maria's claws picked over his chest, then pushed tightly, squeezing, making his tail stiffen and a sharp squeak come from his throat. Though the haze of dirty, lustful sex was still wrapped tightly around his head and though he could hardly pull away from Maria, Fortune began to think something was wrong.
"I think ghhk," Fortune began to say.
Maria tightened her thighs around his slender waist, pulling his broad hips up against hers, squeezing his swelling breasts again and choking out the words before he could finish.
"I think you're not finished," Maria said.
Fortune had tried to keep up before, but now with every thrust he was trying to twist away. His breasts bounce, heavier with each passing minute, his ass wobbling behind him, his naked tail lashing back and forth.
His claws sunk into the carpet. He didn't want to cum and he tried to fight it but it was happening whether he wanted to or not. Maria was pulling the orgasm out of him. She'd been in control ever since the elevator and all Fortune had been able to do was come along for the ride. Stars popped in front of his eyes, the fur on his spine stiffened, and a whining moan erupted from his throat. He leaned forward, cock digging deep into Maria and spraying a thick stream of cum.
"Oh gawwd," Fortune gasped in his growingly accented voice. As Maria relaxed, he wrenched himself away from her. He tried to run for the door, but in three paces his ass was wiggling and chest was bouncing and his cock was throbbing in pain. He toppled onto the ground, landing on his breasts hard. Grasping them in pain and rolling over, his legs fell open, giving Maria a view of his shrinking shaft and retreating balls. By the time the rat girl was on her feet, Fortune had nothing left but a pair of wet folds between her thighs.
The newly-formed rat girl had to touch her pussy to believe it was there, then snapped up at Maria. "Where the fuck is my cock?" she asked, though it came out a bit closer to 'whey tha fuck is my cawk'. Fortune's eyes grew wide and she gulped nervously, suddenly wordless and grasping at her throat in confusion.
"Hold up, shit. I'll get your fucking cock," Maria said, shaking her head. She crossed the room to the bathroom door. "Yo, Rizza. Your turn," she called through the door.
A thickly muscled, brown-furred arm pushed the door open, followed by a body that was just as muscular and just as brown. The rat girl was ripped, and from her buzz cut to her wifebeater to her denim shorts, she was just as butch as Maria was whorish.
And there was that big bulge in her shorts.
"Quit fuckin' squirmin'," Rizza hissed as Fortune pushed at the rat's thighs, trying to avoid the peeled-open shorts and the thick shaft hanging half-erect out of them.
"I'm not a cocksucker you dyke!" Fortune lashed back, finding it distressingly easy to adopt the rat girls' level of rhetoric.
The fat rat cock found its way into her mouth despite her protests. She might have bit down if it wasn't for the way Rizza had her hair gripped so tight it felt like she was ready to rip it right out of her skull. Fortune's nose wrinkled and she grew tense but she couldn't fight the cock plowing into her throat.
The first two times, Fortune nearly gagged, but something happened the third time, some switch in her spine flicked off, and her throat stayed relaxed as it was filled with a thick shaft. Her wrinkled nose slowly relaxed, and her eyes, scrunched tight up until then, opened with a vacant stare.
Her whole body refused to move, no matter how hard she tried. Maria was behind her, grabbing her breasts, whispering into her ear.
"You think I'm a whore? Takes one to know one, bitch."
Fortune's eyes were starting to water from the mental strain. Motion returned to her, but not under her control. She rocked her head gently, moving in time with Rizza's thrusts.
"You're a streetwalker, aren't you? Dirty slut just hoping to get fucked so she can pay for some new tits."
The tears rolled down Fortune's cheeks. She gripped Rizza's thighs, holding onto the fur as she bobbed back and forth. Her lips were aching. She didn't know for sure but she could guess that they were growing thicker and plumper with each bob. Rizza's grip was looser, but that was because her hair was thicker and longer and wilder.
"And you just love cock. It's the best, right? Nothing like snuggling up with a big dick in your mouth until it cums all over you."
Fortune whined in the back of her throat but her eyes were glazing over and her hands were reaching for the shaft to stroke the base and feel Rizza's heavy balls and just imagine what sort of a load was waiting for her.
When that cum came rushing down her throat, it washed away the last vestiges of Fortune's willpower. Rizza was groaning out and Fortune's throat was bulging and it all made sense to her at last.
Fortune sucked on a cigarette until her throat was full of smoke, then slowly breathed it all out. Her back was up against the brick wall, chest thrust out in the tiny purple spandex top wrapped around her huge tits. Her black hair was teased out nearly to the point of being a wild mane, thick and curly and hanging over her shoulders and down her back. Balancing in tall platform heels, she stood with one foot up against the wall, making her tiny skirt ride up, held down only by the golden hoops of the belt she wore. Hidden in the shadow of her skirt between the fishnets wrapped tightly around her thighs were her dripping wet folds.
A car slowed down nearby, so she tossed her cigarette to the concrete and stamped it out with a heel. Every step clicked, then sent her bracelets bouncing and jingling against each other, her earrings swaying amid the thick curls of her hair, and her tits rocking up and down inside her snug top.
Red lipstick ran across her plump lips, thick blue eyeshadow across her eyes, and she wore a perfume that mingled with the unremitting smell of sex.
She hoped tonight would be a good night. She wanted to get wasted with Maria and Rizza tomorrow.
"Hey, baby," she cooed through the window of the car as it rolled down. She leaned down, arms folded across the door, head poking into the car, and naked tail eagerly flicking behind her. "Name's Fortune. Ten bucks and I'll suck your dick."
Her heart skipped as the wolf in the driver's seat opened the door for her. If she'd gone another fifteen minutes without a john she might have had to offer to suck cock for free.