Ok I know I've already uploaded the pic, but the whole reason is because I wanted to post a story I been working on for a bit now. After reading great books by Kyell Gold like 'Waterways' i was really keen to attempt something in a similar vein. So here we go, the first chapter of 'Roads', and like Kyell's work, its a slow burner ok, so don't expect yiffing to occur in the first 30 seconds, this ones gonna build the characters before anything crazy happens. Anyway read on, I hope you enjoy and come back for more. Any feedback would be appreciated, let me know if I'm any good or not!
Just the usual warnings: This work does contain images of homosexuality. If that isn't your thing then please navigate away from the page and do not read on.
For some reason I had a crazy uncontrollable urge to lick it. The car I mean. It sat there, cooling in the driveway. A lot of furs know the sound, after a car has been on a long journey, and at the end of the day when the journey is done; it seems to relax, ticking and easing contently. I placed my paw on top of the bonnet and felt faint heat radiating through the metal. It was a pleasant sensation that warmed my pads in the crisp late evening air. For a summer night in late June I could feel a slight chill brushing against my fur, I enjoyed the sensation as I dug the soles of my feet into the gravel of the drive, passing time on my deserted street in front of the car. Walking beside it, I traced my finger along the curves of the bodywork toward the driver’s door enjoying the smoothness of the paintwork. There was something very sensual about the car, and touching it was almost addictive. I know that sounds pretty nuts but something about that car was special. Tired of the cold, I grabbed the polished door handle and pulled it open with a clunk. The door was heavier than I was expecting and it served as a reminder that at sixteen I still had a lot of growing to do. Jumping behind the steering wheel I quickly slammed the door, encasing myself in the quietness of the car. Tick, tick, tick…I listened as the vehicle eased to my presence. I’d gotten my licence a few months back but that meant jack all with regard to this beast. I most definitely had to settle for sitting behind the large steering wheel, on a safe driveway, no keys in the ignition, because there was no way I’d be getting any further for a long time. It had taken Dad years to track down this model, he had dreamed of owning it since he was twelve. The car was a rare 1969 Pontiac G.T.O, one that had been popular in detective films in the 1970’s. Yer, way back in the day right? I know this because it’s a constant dinnertime conversation. ‘How was work today Dad? Fine fine…. found some original alloys on the web for the Pontiac. That isn’t exactly your job Dad… ‘ ‘What’s for dinner later Mum? It’ll be steak tonight, your Dad apparently found a pristine model in Kentucky and he wants to celebrate.’ It was pretty crazy; the car had practically ruled his life for a while now. I didn’t judge or get jealous that he was so preoccupied in finding it. I had my own stuff to do and was not the whiny type who wants constant attention. Can’t stand those pups, you know the ones who lean on their parents for everything and can’t seem to function without constant attention. Get some damn independence is what I say. Anyway, sat there alone in the dark with my tail wrapped around me, I sighed and relaxed my shoulders, slouching into the seat. The whole street lay ahead of me, illuminated in a warm orange glow from the overly fancy streetlights. Our house sat at the very end of the cul de sac, a little community of carbon copy houses containing happy little families. All picket fences and shiny cars, kinda pathetic. I sat up and grabbed the rear-view mirror to look at myself. My reflection didn’t feel like it showed the real me, the dark black nose and strangely large ears, piercings and all. I was a pretty strange looking otter, and I liked that, was why I had the piercings, felt good to be different. The one original ailment I liked about myself were my eyes. They contained three colours and numerous imperfections. I know everyone’s eyes are unique, but mine felt really different. Just like me. For some reason I always-wanted more though. I brushed my paw through my cropped hair liking the feeling and grinned a cheesy grin at myself…looking completely ridiculous in the process. I sighed and looked away back at the street. I was something different than the kid looking back at me After a few more minutes of quiet contemplation, I’d become quite content sat alone in the car, nobody around to bother me. I was positioned behind the steering wheel, relaxing in the comfortable leather seats, when a light from the porch hit my face. It was Dad coming down the driveway, swinging his long tail behind him and throwing the car keys from paw to paw. He looked pretty deep in concentration, the creases in his forehead a little starker than usual. I wasn’t supposed to be out there so late; I had told them I was upstairs doing homework before bed. Sneaking out to look at the car seems pretty tame, but recently I had taken a liking to roaming the quiet streets in the late night air, alone with my thoughts. “Oh shit!’ I said aloud to myself, if he caught me now, he might keep a closer eye on me in future. Last thing I needed was both of them on my back all the time. Instinctively I threw myself backward over the front seat, landing pretty much on my head in the back of the car. I crawled into the space between the front and back seats and held my breath. Luckily, the car was so old it didn’t have those lights that fill the whole bloody interior when you open the door. The only one was positioned between the driver and the passenger, so I remained in relative shadow when Dad jumped in behind the drivers seat. He stuck the keys in the ignition and fired up the engine with a roar. ‘FUCK!!!’ I screamed inside my head. This might not turn out well. I had two choices, either fess up now and reveal myself in the back of the car, effectively scaring the crap outta Dad and probably grounding myself for a long time. Or…I could try and avoid all that stuff by keeping as quiet as possible here in the back, ride out our little trip and sneak back into my room through the window later, praying Mum hadn’t discovered my absence and reported my missing to the whole damn San Diego police force. I chose the second option quite simply because I didn’t have the balls to get up and show Dad I had been hiding. He was driving pretty fast along the winding mountain roads that surrounded our house, and last thing I wanted was to cause him to crash his most prized possession, possibly killing us in the process. I’d been laid in the back for a few minutes, trying desperately to keep my breathing steady and quiet, paranoid that any minute Dad would rumble me, when the speaker right next to my head blared with static. Stifling a surprised yelp, I very nearly gave the game away, but I controlled myself and breathed deeply whilst the static morphed into music and my heart slammed itself against my ribs. The song playing started so suddenly, and I instantly recognised it as ‘Twist and Shout’ by The Beatles. Dad was into his classics and I had been bought up on the likes of The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Creedence Clearwater Revival….the list goes on. Dad had this song on vinyl and played it when him and Mum were feeling upbeat and happy. Usually pretty sloppy stuff that I avoided, but it sounded so melodic and comforting in the back of the car I couldn’t help but crack a little smile listening. I was mouthing the words when all of a sudden on the second chorus Dad starts singing. I’m not talking mumbling along with the lyrics kinda singing; I’m talking belting as loud as he could kinda singing. It was hilarious hearing him wailing “WELL SHAKE IT UP BABY NOW!!” with all his might, but it stuck me as odd, I’d never seen him act so over the top, he was usually so reserved at home. The car came to abrupt stop to the sound of spraying gravel and I was forced deeper into the crevice between the seats. The radio was turned down to the level where conversation could occur and the passenger door suddenly opened, confirmed not only by the cool air hitting me in the face but also the light flicking on above my Fathers head. The door was closed quietly as the new member of the Pontiac crew sat next to my Dad in the front seat. A male voice rose above the music. “Hey”, I only just heard the simple greeting...........(part 2 of chapter is on my profile)
