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This story was written for Kemper as his patreon flash fiction for November. It contains M/F sex between consenting adults in a semi-public place, and zootopia related fun. :3

A Backstage Pass

Kemper stared in awe as he padded down the long corridor, both walls lined with autographed pictures of names and faces he knew so well. So many incredible artists, singers, bands, actors of both stage and screen who had performed here in months and years gone by. As he walked along, each doorway between the pictures engraved with a golden star that had a small space empty in its centre upon which a placard could be placed, he could hear the music playing from the grand hall's stage itself. The main show might have been over, but the sonorous tones of the featured performer rang out as a recording even now to ensure that each and every attendee left with the memory of her voice fresh in their minds.

The black and white spotted cat however, he wasn't amongst the crowd. He reached up and idly, fondled the small rectangle of laminated card attached to a lanyard and resting against his chest. He had an all access backstage pass, and while he didn't expect to get to meet the star herself even with that pass in mind, he fully intended to use it to the fullest extent possible. To try and see as much of the inner workings of this historic and world renowned venue as he could before he outstayed his welcome. He'd already gotten to talk to so many fascinating people on the crew for the venue and for the singer's tour itself, and standing at the side of the stage and listening, watching so close as she sang... that alone had made the entire trip worth it. Everything else that happened from now on, every picture, every door, every memory he made was all just gravy.

Just as Kemper turned away from the latest picture and began to walk down the corridor once more, his clawed feet tapping and echoing off the quiet, empty walls out of time with the thumping base of the music, a loud click rang out from somewhere up ahead. His eyes widened as one of the star-etched doors swung open, and a voice... a thick, soft, accented voice rang out from within.

"Quickly. Come in, before someone sees."

Kemper froze. He knew that voice. But, it couldn't be. And yet, how could it not? How many voices sounded like her? How many voices sounded just like the music playing from back on the stage, yet even more beautiful, even more sonorous in person?

"Please hurry. I've been waiting so long already. Waiting just for you."

He stepped forward. Towards the door. Towards the voice. He swallowed thickly, so confused, head spinning at the thought of what was about to happen. He hadn't dared to hope, he hadn't imagined that without some chance meeting as they passed in the corridors he would have any opportunity to even speak a single word to the woman whom he and thousands of others had been here to watch and listen to in awed reverie that night. Yet here she was, calling out to him. Asking him to come to her.

How could he not?

He half stumbled, half ran to the door, and turned towards it, straightening up and trying to look as smart as possible, ready to introduce himself to...

His eyes bulged. His muzzle fell slack.

He stared at Gazelle. At the star herself; stark naked, trembling, one damp, cloven hoofed hand resting between her glistening thighs even now. Before he could speak a word, or even let slip a mewling whimper of absolute confusion and delight though, her free hand had reached out and grabbed him by the lanyard, dragging him inside and slamming the door shut behind them.

"You may be a little late, but I won't hold that against you if you promise to show me a good time."

Before Kemper could answer, the singer's arms were around his neck and his muzzle was pressed against hers. By the time her hands fell away from his and began to tease open the buttons of his shirt, then to work their way lower still towards his belt, he was in no state to stop the deep, tongue-heavy kiss in which they were engaged. Indeed he found himself growing light headed from lack of oxygen before Gazelle finally withdrew her muzzle from his, her own eyes heavy lidded and slightly glazed over when she shuddered and moaned happily, stepping back to take in the sight of the now bare-chested male. Kemper's dark khakis were undeniably tented now, and with his belt unfastened and the top button of his pants loose, that tent was practically all that was holding them up.

Licking her lips, Gazelle took a step back with her arms outstretched, beckoning to Kemper. Of course, in a lustful, overwhelmed daze, he followed without question.

"You're the cutest one yet. I hope you know, I couldn't do this without you. All these shows, all that attention... I'd never get through it without knowing that I have you and the rest of the crew supporting me. Ready to help me unwind when the spotlight is off. Ready to help me feel like a real person again. L-like a real woman. With needs. Desires. Longings, j-just like any other animal."

She guided Kemper past a stretch of wall upon which a large, mirror was set, a section of wooden shelving beneath it housing a bottle of water, some make-up, a spare microphone and a whole host of gifts, cards and letters all addressed to Gazelle herself. She guided him past a comfortably padded chair, a slight dark stain upon the seat and a few drizzles of glistening droplets on the floor just below it. Her gaze caught sight of him looking, and she blushed, murmuring softly, but shamelessly.

"I could barely wait. I get so worked up after my shows. W-without a visit from someone like you, I'd be unstoppable f-for... god, for so long. During my first ever tour, I almost missed my second show of the opening night, because I was so exhausted from what I did to myself after the first."

She led him further across the dressing room, to its very rear where a long, fold out couch had already been converted into a bed. It wasn't a particularly luxurious looking couch-bed, and there were no sheets or anything covering it to add to the illusion. But that was okay, because Kemper barely spent a split-second looking at the bed. Why the hell would he focus on the bed, when Gazelle was standing right in front of it?

Except, she wasn't standing any more. She was lying. Lying back upon the bed, arms still outstretched, staring up at Kemper with a look of pure lust as she spread her legs wider, and wider, and wider before his hungry gaze.

"I've done my share of singing for the night..."

She moaned huskily, licking her lips as Kemper cast aside his shirt and began to tug his khakis off at long last.

"...n-now all I want to do, is be given a reason to scream."

The feline male fell upon her with a deep growl, and as he sank into her soaking wet, burning hot and devastatingly tight depths with his ample erection, he forgot all about the fact that he had no idea why he was here or why Gazelle seemed to have been expecting him. It was hard, no, it was impossible to keep hold of such questions when he felt her walls milking him, and her hands wrapping around his neck once more. Kemper growled happily as the superstar pressed his face down to her modest but perfectly formed chest and urged him wordlessly to take first one, then the other of her nipples into his muzzle, suckling on each one for just a short time before her hands guided his head to the other breast, then back again.

"Harder, baby..."

Her hands fell away from his head and slid down his back, past his twitching tail and fell into place upon his firm buttocks. She pulled him tight against her, grunting loudly and tossing her head back, a gentle tearing sound ringing out through the room as her horns pierced the fabric of the couch's exterior. The harder her fingers squeezed at his buttocks, the faster Kemper fucked her. Faster. Faster. Deeper. He growled and huffed, she bleated, begged, shuddered beneath him.

"Oh. Ohhh yes. I... f-fuck me. Don't stop!"

The couch-bed creaked as Gazelle threw her legs around Kemper's waist alongside her hands on his ass, dragging him down hard against herself each time he dared to try and pull back more than a few inches for his next potent, passionate thrust. He stared down into her face, open mouthed, panting, teeth glinting, reflected in her wide, desperate eyes. She stared back at him. Not a superstar any more. Not a singer. Not anyone famous or at all notable, and yet still the most beautiful woman in the world, the most important creature in all of existence in that moment. She saw that desire, that all consuming adoration in his eyes in that moment, and her back arched as a frantic, joyous and yet somehow melodic bellowing poured forth from the very core of Gazelle's soul. She clung to Kemper tightly, shaking and shuddering violently as she began to cum hard around his still thrusting, still violently throbbing cock. Needless to say it was barely a handful of seconds later that amidst her passionate wails and cries of ecstasy, Kemper let loose his own wild roar of rapture and felt his balls pulsing, clenching and letting loose every last drop present within them deep, deep into Gazelle's clutching, gushing pussy.

They clung to one another for not just the length of their shared climax, moaning, trembling, staring at one another in a mixture of fatigue, ecstasy and pure gratitude as they squeezed and throbbed and rode out the waves of their bliss, but even when it was done. Even when they were spent, even when Kemper's job was done Gazelle still continued to embrace him, and once more her lips sought out his, though far more gentle and luxurious than before. They rested together, Gazelle's short tuft of a tail twitching happily as Kemper's still hard member throbbed inside her a few times, the overflow of their juices, primarily his seed dribbling down the fur of her buttocks and onto her tail-base in a manner that was almost as comforting as the initial lashing of his seed against her walls itself.

They spoke a few words to each other. Mostly breathless thanks, whispered affections, sweet, post-coital nothings spoken with sincerity and mutual delight. They cuddled. They kissed. They sighed as Kemper's cock finally began to soften and slipped free from the beautiful body beneath him.

It was then they both knew it was over. It was then Kemper slipped off the bed, and Gazelle let him. She watched, lying back with her legs still spread, her pussy still oozing his cum, her body on full display to the cat, as he got dressed without once taking his eyes off of her, savouring that sight, that moment which he knew he would look back on over and over again for the rest of his life. Not because she was Gazelle. Not because he had fucked Gazelle. But simply because he had found himself privileged enough to be here, to share this moment with her. With this beautiful, incredible, passionate woman who just happened to be one of the most famous women in the world.

Soon he was dressed, and he paused, lingering nervously for a moment as he glanced between her still prone, relaxed, lewdly exposed figure and the door.

She giggled.

"Is there something you want to ask me, baby?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again and began to shake his head. A moment later though Kemper frowned, and he nodded.

"Yeah. I mean... it's not a question, but... I hope you believe me when I say that this meant a lot to me. I... I'm glad I was here for you."

Gazelle blushed. She beamed, and pulled herself upright for a moment, reaching out with both arms and beckoning Kemper back to her once more. He obliged, and as his arms encircled her body once again, they shared a last, deep, lingering kiss. The singer moaned softly as they broke it, and playfully pushed him away.

"Go..."

She giggled, red in the face beneath her fur.

"Go, b-before you say more sweet things, and I lose myself again."

Kemper grinned, nodded, and turned away from Gazelle as he began to walk back to the dressing room door. He was almost there, reaching out for the handle, when her voice called out after him.

"I hope I don't need to say it, but... this meant a lot to me, too. I'll carry your face in my mind, the memory of your touch on my body, w-within my body, for the rest of my days."

The cat turned, and smiled back at Gazelle as she sat on the couch, blowing him an affectionate kiss. He nodded, but he said nothing more. Soon the door was open before him. Soon he was stepping out through it, taking one last look back into the room as Gazelle gave a heavy, contented sigh and flopped wearily back to the couch, legs still lewdly spread. Then the door was shut, and after drawing in a deep, steadying breath, Kemper reached for his chest, fondled his lanyard idly once more, and strolled away down the corridor once more, a dazed, wondrous grin resting upon his muzzle.

*********

Five minutes later as Gazelle lay at rest, breathing slowly and regularly, eyes half shut, so satisfied and so delighted with how tonight had gone, both the show and her little post-show ritual, she heard a nervous knocking at the door. An unmistakable knocking; that of her manager. She made no effort to move, no effort to conceal her bare body or her recently fucked, recently satisfied, still glistening pussy. She didn't so much call out to let her in as she did murmur in pleasant acknowledgement, and as the jaguar poked her head around the door, eyes widening and cheeks flushing in surprise, Gazelle giggled.

"You outdid yourself this time, Maria. Though, you know I'll never complain if you can't find me a suitable man. I always appreciate the time_we_ get to spend together."

When the jaguar continued to stare in confusion though, Gazelle's smile faded slightly, and she propped herself up on her elbows.

"Is... everything okay, Maria?"

The jaguar blinked a few times, glancing at Gazelle's bare and thoroughly satisfied body, then peering behind herself back through the door. After a few repetitions of this cycle however she looked wide eyed at the superstar singer, and pushed the door open to reveal the figure standing next to her. A tall, rather lean wolf, dressed in the more casual attire of a member of the backstage crew and with a green lanyard round his neck that marked him as a sound engineer.

"I... uh... I was going to apologise for taking so long to find someone I thought you would enjoy."

She gestured to the wolf, who just stared, wide eyed and with a rather goofy smile spread across his face at Gazelle's naked body. Wide eyed herself now, her face flushing a much deeper shade of red, Gazelle looked from her manager to the wolf.

"Wait. That is the man you picked for me?"

Slowly, nervously, Maria nodded. Gazelle reached a hand down to her pussy, and wiped a small amount of Kemper's lingering cum off onto her hoofed digits.

"S-so... the sweet sabretooth I was with? That wasn't you?"

Maria shook her head, but the look of horror on her face faded slightly as Gazelle just giggled, glancing over the jaguar's shoulder to where the wolf was still standing, still staring.

"Well, it's okay. He was a real sweetheart, and he helped me out when I needed it, so no harm done. But... now there's the matter of your friend here, Maria."

Gazelle met the wolf's gaze, and a keening whine escaped his lips as she licked hers teasingly.

"I... I'd hate to seem like a diva by sending this kind young man away after you stole him away from his duties just for me."

Again the jaguar's eyes widened, and her face flushed beneath her fur as she watched Gazelle extend a hand, still lying back with her wet pussy lewdly on display even now. The singer beckoned to the wolf, and Maria barely had time to step out of the way before he seemed to drift past her in a giddy daze.

The jaguar smirked, and rolled her eyes as she stepped back out of the doorway, beginning to close it and give the pair some privacy even as Gazelle's sultry voice murmured to the wolf from within, beginning the intimate ritual that followed every show for the second time that night.

"I hope you know, I couldn't do this without you. All these shows, all that attention..."

By Jeeves

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