FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

This story was written for Kemper. It contains M/F sex between consenting adults, some of which takes place in public. ^^

Beyond Fuck-buddies

"Here. R-right here. I can't wait any more."

Kemper's eyes widened as Freya stopped in her tracks, the buff doberman glancing back over her shoulder so that she could drink in the look upon her fuck-buddy's face when she hooked her thumbs around the waistline of her lycra running shorts and tugged them down to her knees in a single urgent motion. She dropped to her knees and fell forward, still staring at the sabretoothed feline behind her and raising her eyebrows expectantly as she wagged her long, lithe tail and wiggled her bare ass temptingly. They normally made it a little further away from the park's pathways than this. They normally hid themselves away against a section of high wall sheltering them from the park's exterior or snuck into a copse of trees to conceal themselves more completely within the site of Freya's favourite morning jogs. But not today, apparently, and even as Kemper looked nervously around once again he was already tugging down his own tracksuit trousers at the front to expose his ready, rock hard cock.

"Yes!"

The doberman barked in gruff, unabashed pleasure as Kemper knelt down behind her and shuffled forward, bringing the tip of his erection to bear against her soft, warm, already wet pussy lips. He pulled himself closer, placing his hands upon her bare hips and feeling her firm, powerful body shaking in anticipation. Closing his eyes, he slowly, tenderly began to press himself inward, only to grunt and let loose a yowling cry of his very own ecstasy when just moments later Freya snarled and impatiently thrust herself backwards where she knelt, impaling herself upon the entirety of his cock in a split-second.

" Yes! Aaa-aahhfuck, do it. Hump me, Kemper. Make me... ah, fucking make me cum."

As Kemper did as he was told, leaning forward and wrapping himself around Freya's larger, stronger body and beginning to buck and hump into her deliciously hot and eager depths, he could smell the physical exertion rising from Freya's body. A couple of weeks ago she had informed him that she was doubling her morning jog distance, and since then their morning rendezvous for him to provide her with some additional encouragement had been more vital than ever. She was a machine, a true powerhouse of a woman in both physical stature and personality, and though Kemper had never been with a woman even remotely like her before this he found himself utterly captivated by so much about her. He revelled in the way that she was both demanding and nonchalant all at once, her morning text messages short and to the point, telling him where to be and when to be there with the implicit implication that if he was there at that time, he would get to fuck her. Yet at the same time he knew that if he missed a morning or didn't respond to such a message, there would be no punishment. No penalisation for the rare occasions when he slept clean through the buzzing of her phone, and no response if he texted her an apology. Just another message the next morning, and the same hungry reception when he met her for that next bout of morning glory.

Beyond the force of her personality of course, Kemper obviously found her incredibly sexually appealing. She wasn't just beautiful, she wasn't just hot, she was one of the most demanding and unabashedly lustful lovers that Kemper had ever had the privilege of spending his time with, and he adored that about her. Most mornings she did as she had today, dropping her shorts and simply exposing herself alongside a command to do what she wanted him to do to her. Most of the time she wanted his cock, but on the mornings when she leaned back against a wall or a tree, spread her legs and commanded him to eat her out or suck on her clit, he was more than happy to do so. A couple of times she'd even asked him to fuck her ass, and when Kemper had bashfully asked her what they were going to do about lube, she had simply spread her cheeks wide open before him to reveal a pucker already glistening, pre-lubricated before she had even headed out on her run in anticipation of that very moment.

If there was one thing that lingered in Kemper's mind most of all between their meetings however, more so even than the sound of his cock ploughing roughly, wetly in and out of Freya as it was right now or the sound of her snarling, moaning, muffling a scream with one of her own paws as she came hard around him, it was her smell. She smelled like exercise. Like exertion and endurance of the highest calibre. There was nothing unpleasant about that rich earthy aroma though, it wasn't merely a case of him having gotten used to it or developing an association between that smell and getting to fuck Freya's beautiful body. He genuinely found himself delighting in every opportunity to get close enough to Freya to smell her as she was in the midst of a run, and perhaps that was a good thing... since, after all, they rarely ever spoke or met up other than when Freya needed some orgasmic motivation to keep her early morning exercise schedule on track.

"Harder! O-oh, god yes. Harder. Right there!"

The doberman snarled as while lost in his thoughts of her Kemper's body remained on an eager, pleasure stricken auto-pilot. He bucked and plunged himself into her over and over again, the developing knot at the base of his cock which signalled his otherwise feline form's partially canine heritage driving itself against Freya's dripping, hungrily clutching pussy but not once allowing itself to even attempt to push inside of her. They both had work in just a couple of hours, and Freya had to finish her jog, go home, shower, change and then head into work before then. That meant she didn't have time to wait around for the best part of an hour for them to separate, even if they hadn't been fucking in what was normally a quiet but still highly public outdoor spot. Besides, from what little Kemper had learned of the doberman outside of their carnal in person rendezvous and the equally lewd videos they traded back and forth between their phones some evenings, even if they'd been curled up in a bed rather than on their knees in a public park Freya really didn't seem like the sort of pillow-talk loving type to enjoy lazing around while knotted together.

"Freya, I... a-aahh, I'm gonna cum."

Kemper growled in the doberman's ear as he felt his body surging with renewed pleasure, each thrust he delivered deep into her clutching pussy carrying him to a new plateau of bliss before the next swiftly eclipsed that prior high all over again. He blushed as he heard her groan in shamelessly lustful delight, and felt a rush of wetness douse his knot and begin to drip and drool out from between them.

"Goddammit, Kemper. D-don't tell me you're gonna cum. Just fucking cum. Cum in me. Now! Please."

The sabretoothed male grinned through his pleasure stricken panting, and though given their position Freya couldn't see him he gave her a firm, reassuring nod. His eyes closed, and with a snarl of passion he redoubled his efforts as he ceased to hold anything back. His knot was so swollen by now that he couldn't have gotten it into Freya even if she'd begged, but as he began to pound himself into her dripping, clutching nether regions with ever greater haste that throbbing cluster of nerves did serve a purpose. It drove against the opening of her depths over and over again, and in doing so its girth ground against her exposed and throbbing clit. Freya's fingers dug down into the soft earth beneath them, and as she opened her muzzle to let loose a strangled scream it was Kemper's hand that flew to her muzzle and muffled it before any other early morning joggers or dog walkers could overhear and potentially investigate those intense, almost painfully euphoric sounds.

" Yes!"

Even through Kemper's hand her cries were still loud enough to make the sabretoothed cat blush and glance nervously around while still feverishly fucking her. That didn't slow his efforts or in any way make him relent in his assault upon her pussy or her exposed and obviously highly receptive clit though. He knew how much these morning encounters meant to Freya, if only because of the volume of her screams and the simple fact that she had said more than once that if they stopped being fun or satisfying for her, she'd simply stop messaging him and that would be the end of it. Thus, even putting aside the fact that he too was having the time of his life getting drawn into these wildly inappropriate yet blissful encounters day after day, he wanted more than just to make Freya satisfied. He wanted more than to simply scratch the itch between her legs and provide her with suitable encouragement to finish her run with a warm, contented glow emanating from her crotch. He wanted to make Freya happy, and right now the only way she had given him to do that was by making her cum as hard and as wildly as possible.

With one hand still over the doberman's muzzle, Kemper lowered his other paw down between the trembling, bliss-stricken dog's legs. He felt her tense up and heard a strained grunt of lust escape her as his fingers made contact with the outer lips of her pussy, and he heard her shriek louder still into his hand when he spread those lips obscenely apart, rendering her clit an even more exposed and vulnerable target to the impact of his knot than it already had been. As his own body clung to the last vestiges of its own sanity Kemper pounded his hips forward into the suddenly thrashing, howling dog with all the strength and speed he could muster, and as he buried his cock within Freya once more and held it there, snarling in bliss of his very own as he began to paint her insides with spurt after hot, thick spurt of his cum, the sabretoothed cat clung to the doberman like a cowboy to a bucking bronco as she thrashed, screamed, and began to cum violently around his twitching cock.

They shook, growled and yelped together for the best part of half a minute, Kemper shuddering as streaks of Freya's ejaculate drummed against the aching girth of his knot while she writhed beneath him, somehow remaining upright on all fours even as the convulsions of her pussy seemed to pass through the entirety of her body. He felt her saliva dripping through his fingers as he muffled her helpless wails of pleasure, and amidst the rich and earthy scent of her body's prior physical exertion his nose hungrily drank in the now intermingled scent of her liquid lust, rich and vibrant and addictive enough to send fantasies of Kemper burying his head between her legs and licking her clean rushing through the male's mind before their peaks had passed and more calm, rational awareness of what was almost certainly going to happen next took hold.

Sure enough, as soon as they were both obviously and physically spent, they parted. Kemper rose shakily back to his feet and offered Freya a hand as he always did, which of course she smiled but did not take as she pulled herself back upright. Together they re-affixed their clothes, brushed themselves down to conceal the most obvious and suggestive grass-stains on their knees and palms, and without so much as a hug said their brief goodbyes.

"Thanks. I needed that. Seeya next time, Kemper."

Freya licked her lips, nodded to the sabretoothed male, and before he could reply turned on the spot and began to jog away. He watched her go, smiling as she jogged out of sight around the nearby trees which had been their original target for concealing themselves, and turned back towards the entrance of the park through which he had entered some twenty minutes ago. He stretched and yawned as he padded back across the grass, dawn's light still faintly red in the sky. If he got home and showered quickly, he'd be able to get maybe another forty five minute's sleep before he had to be up for work. He purred, glancing around and re-arranging the still somewhat visible bulge of his persisting knot within his tracksuit pants. He was already thinking about tomorrow. He had the day off, which for many people might have meant a lie-in, but for Kemper meant another early morning, a shower, and then a lie in. Of course he was making the assumption that Freya was going to message him tomorrow as she had today, and yesterday, and the day before that, and... well, assumption as it might have been, he didn't feel guilty or too greedy in that hope. Besides, just fuck-buddies or not, if it made Freya happy to have him there for her in the mornings, he was happy to help.

*********

Kemper had barely been out of work for five minutes when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He sighed, half expecting it to be someone from his job asking him to clarify something for the next shift or worse asking him if he was able to work tomorrow. Instead though he saw Freya's name at the top of the message, and his eyes widened in excitement as he read the brief message within.

'You finish work around now, right? Come to the coffee shop. The one where we met. I'm already there.'

The coffee shop in question was right around the corner from where Kemper was standing at that moment, and though he hadn't planned on getting some coffee today the presence of Freya was more than enough to change his mind. Besides, getting a message from her at this time of day which wasn't a lewd video of her fingering herself in the bathrooms at her place of work, or her car in the parking lot, or fresh through the door of her apartment was something of a novelty. Either she was particularly horny today and was taking advantage of their possible proximity to alleviate those urges without resorting to some solitary exploration, or... hell, maybe she was wanted to talk.

Kemper smirked at that latter thought, and shook his head to himself as he made his way towards the shop in question. Honestly, it seemed more likely that Freya would pants him in front of the entire shop than ask him to sit and drink coffee with her.

Sure enough, he had barely stepped into the coffee shop when he saw Freya in the same hooded top that she had been wearing the day they met. She was sitting near the back of the shop at a small table with a take-out cup in one hand, but as soon a she saw him enter the doberman rose to her feet and began to walk nonchalantly towards the restrooms. She glanced back over her should for just a moment as she slipped through the door, and as their eyes met it was obvious that she wanted Kemper to follow her.

Thirty seconds later they were in the same accessible restroom which Freya had dragged Kemper into on their first meeting, the feline male's cheeks flushed through second-hand embarrassment as he recalled what had prompted their first ever interaction. She didn't speak, not a single word, and Kemper couldn't help but notice that her features were a little more tense, a little more strained than normal. She wasn't panting and flushed with the effort of exercise and she wasn't grinning with the endorphin rush of physical exertion. He couldn't be too sure having not really seen her that much outside of their pre-arranged hook ups, but it looked to Kemper as though she was more frustrated and angry than she was horny. Nevertheless, as she tugged her pants and panties down and kicked them aside before leaning herself back against the rear wall of the restroom, Kemper saw an all too familiar need in her eyes which burned with renewed intensity.

Before he knew it, he was inside her. Bucking against her as her arms encircled him not to be intimate, but simply to grasp at his bare buttocks and pull him tighter, harder against her.

"More."

She grunted as her pussy clamped tightly around his cock, not quite as wet as normal but still slick enough to do the job for sure. Kemper obliged, but he groaned as he felt himself rising to orgasm much faster than he had that morning. He didn't know if it was the different time of day, the venue, Freya's even more domineering and insistent demeanour or some combination of all those factors, but he was finding it harder and harder to control himself. And still all the while, Freya demanded more.

"Harder. Fuck me harder!"

He was going to cum. She was showing no signs of being ready to do so herself yet, but it was very clear to Kemper that he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer no matter how hard he tried. Yet unlike that morning he didn't announce it. He didn't tell her, not because he was ashamed or because he expected her to want him to hold back, but simply because of what she had said to him then and on other occasions past. She didn't want to hear that he was cumming, she just wanted to feel it. Thus huffing, gasping, moaning Freya's name helplessly barely a minute later and less than five after they'd begun, Kemper shuddered and began to pour himself into the doberman for the second time that day. He ground his knot feverishly against the exterior of her pussy in the hopes of setting her clit off like he had earlier, but while she definitely moaned and gasped in pleasure at the feeling of him twitching and letting loose his load within her, Freya gave a groan of frustration when his thrusts began to slow and his cock began to attempt to withdraw from inside her as the dog's clutching walls began to over-stimulate his spent, sensitive flesh.

"Eat me."

She took her hands off Kemper's ass and placed them on his hips, pulling him away from her before transferring those paws to his shoulders and rather roughly pushing the sabretoothed male to his knees. Her hands darted from position to position to get Kemper exactly where she needed him, and soon they were clutching at handfuls of his headfur at the top and back of his head as she pulled him tight to her pussy. Kemper winced as she tugged at his fur a little harder than was strictly necessary and not in the most comfortable manner, but he still hungrily and gladly did as she asked. He got to do what he had wished for that very morning, and soon found himself tasting his own cum leaking out of Freya's pussy as he worked at it with his lips and tongue just as she had taught him she liked.

"Do it. Fuck. God fucking dammit, do it Kemper. Make me cum."

She didn't cry out in pleasure, just growled at him in desperation and demanding hunger as he used every trick that she had taught him and some he had learned from other relationships too. It wasn't long before her juices were dripping off his chin faster than he could lap them up, and Kemper could hear Freya's ragged breathing as he urged her body towards the orgasm of which she seemed almost painfully in need. He felt her thighs clamp down around his cheeks, tight to begin with and only getting more so as he worked her clit between his lips before darting back down to delve his tongue into her dripping depths. He felt her fingertips tapping and scraping at the restroom's tiled wall, and looked up a moment later as that sound faded away to see one hand groping beneath her sweater, not so much fondling but almost clawing at her own breasts.

Freya snarled, but didn't scream as she came. Kemper waited for the rush of her juices, for her explosive squirting orgasm to rain down upon his hard working muzzle, but instead all he felt was the quivering of her walls against his muzzle. The convulsions of her orgasm as hard and as unmistakable as ever, but without the screams and the rush of liquids to join them. He felt Freya bucking against his face, thrusting her pussy into his muzzle so hard it almost hurt his face as her pubic bone met with the tip of his nose. He heard strained, keening whines escaping her, and for a moment wondered if she hadn't actually cum yet, if this was just a precursor to an even more almighty orgasm yet to burst forth. But then, to his surprise and to Freya's obvious dismay, those convulsions began to wane and her thrusting slowed.

"No..."

He heard her whimper in utter misery.

"No. Please, please! Again. Kemper. Fucking... f-fuck. Do it again. Now."

That last word escaped her in a shrill, desperate bark that echoed around the enclosed tile walls of the restroom. Rather than urging Kemper on however those words sounded so far from happy, so far from remotely pleasure-stricken that the cat instinctively pulled away. He drew back just far enough to see over the curve of Freya's breasts and up at her face, and his eyes widened in sorrow and concern as he did so. Sure enough, she didn't look happy. She didn't look like a woman who had just cum, even if she was still in need of more pleasure to fully satisfy her. Freya looked... angry. Frustrated. She looked sad, and as Kemper's heart lurched with empathy and sorrow towards the obviously desperate and unhappy dog, some words escaped his damp muzzle before he could remember to whom he was talking.

"Freya, is... is everything okay? Are you sure you want this? Do... do you maybe wanna talk about it?"

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, just a moment she looked grateful, as though the idea had simply not occurred to her until that very instant. A second later though anger rose more prominently than ever to the forefront of her features, and she scowled as she let go of Kemper and slipped hurriedly out from between him and the wall.

"Goddammit."

Before Kemper knew what was happening, she was pulling on her clothes once more. Getting dressed, and glaring in fury at Kemper all the while as he knelt there with his trousers around his ankles, his muzzle glistening with saliva and arousal, and his knotted cock still hard between his legs.

"Goddammit, Kemper. I told you. I fucking told you what this was."

She growled as she got herself together as best she could, stamping a foot against the ground and raising her hands skyward in helpless frustration.

"You fuck me. You make me cum. We don't talk, we don't worry. We don't care about one another beyond whether we're sexually satisfied. That was the rule. That was the one fucking rule, Kemper."

She put her hand on the door handle, unlocked it, and Kemper yelped as he suddenly began to scramble to make himself decent. He didn't have the chance though. He didn't have the chance to move or to say or do anything before Freya looked away for a moment, then back at him with a cold, sorrowful stare.

"Don't call me. Don't message me."

The doberman spoke those words, plain and simple, and then she was gone. Through the door, closing it behind her and thankfully leaving Kemper time to scramble over and lock it again before beginning to try and pull his clothes back into place. As he did so, all he could do was replay the last minute or so over and over in his head. Trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, even though in a way it was obvious. No matter how clear Freya's distress might have been and how natural the impulse for him to ask about it, he had broken her one rule. And as a result, she had done precisely what she had always promised she would do if he got too emotionally involved. She had left, and seemed to make very clear that whatever it was they'd had, whatever arrangement might have once existed between them, was over.

Just like that, as abruptly and in the very same place as it had begun, it was over.

*********

The next morning Kemper awoke at 5am. Yes it was his day off, and no neither his alarm nor his phone's message tone had awoken him. Yet still the sabretoothed cat found himself awake, and remained that way as he watched his phone count the minutes passing by. 5.15. 5.30. 5.45. 6am. That was the latest he had ever received a message from Freya on a work day. Nothing. 6.15. 6.30. 6.45. 7am. That was the latest he'd ever received a morning message from Freya on one of her days off.

Nothing.

He sighed, and wearily rose from his bed to go and shower, ignoring the morning wood aching between his legs and wordlessly asking him why there was no hot, wet pussy in which to wrap itself up this morning.

The next day was the same, and when Kemper's alarm woke him up for work at 6.45am the following day he gave a soft, mournful sigh, and began to stroke his desperately needy cock as he stumbled towards the shower.

It really was over. His mornings were his own again, and though Kemper told himself that he had never really gotten to know Freya for anything more than her body... he still missed her much, much more than just for sex.

The next morning, Kemper awoke with his alarm once again. He pulled his phone into his hand, shut off the alarm, and lay there in bed just peering at his phone for a moment in confusion. Something wasn't right. He'd disabled the messaging ringtone once again, no longer having a reason to want to be woken up by an early morning message, but.. there was still a message icon illuminated upon his screen. A message icon, and the preview of the address book contact from which it had come.

He almost dropped the phone on his face in shock when his sleepy brain kicked into gear and he saw Freya's face and name attached to it, the picture in his address book taken from one of the least provocative looking stills in one of the many videos that she had sent him, videos which for days he had been wrestling with the question of whether or not to delete from his phone now that they were no longer involved.

Kemper pulled open the full message, and his eyes widened as he saw a handful of texts one after the other from just a couple of hours ago.

'4.52am: Hey. I'm sorry for how I acted, that wasn't cool. Can we meet?'

'5:05am: Fuck. I don't mean meet like that. Like we normally do. I mean to talk.'

'5:21am: You probably have work today too. Dinner? Let me know if I should just stop messaging. I won't blame you. Again, I'm sorry, Kemper.'

Kemper must have read the messages over ten times apiece at the very least before he took a deep breath, steadied himself, and began to type a response.

He sent it, and barely a minute later received a reply from Freya.

He grinned, and nodded to the empty bedroom around him as he began to reply to her once again.

*********

Dinner wasn't formal or fancy, but it was delicious. Tacos always were, especially from this local, family run place. Freya and Kemper didn't hug as they met, in fact they barely even spoke. They sat quietly and ate together, but it wasn't an uncomfortable quiet... at least not for Kemper. He was just glad to be here for Freya, because she still looked a little upset like she had days ago, but now on top of that she looked relieved. She looked glad that he was here, if still a little wary.

After they'd eaten though, as they sat side by side and shared a pot of chocolate cinnamon dipping sauce with some freshly made churros, Freya finally spoke up.

"I've been asking you to come and see me almost every morning for the past month or so. Every day, a-and then sending videos almost every afternoon or night. I worried that maybe you thought... m-maybe you expected that because it was happening more often, we were..."

Her voice trailed off, and she sighed as she took another bite of her dessert.

"You're a sweet guy, Kemper. But you signed on to fuck me, not to hear me bitch and whine about my problems. I'm sorry I put you in a position where you felt like you had to say something about it."

Kemper's brow furrowed.

"Freya, I... look, if I didn't want to talk about it, I wouldn't have come tonight. And if I didn't want to hear about it then, I wouldn't have asked. It wasn't obligation. It was concern, and it was real. It is real."

The doberman's own face twisted in frustration, and she looked down at the table, at the pot of melted chocolate between them.

"I know it is. But, that's kinda the problem. I didn't want you to have to worry about me. About anything more than how to get me off."

Both their faces flushed as a server walked past just moments after that comment, though she seemed not to hear or at least not to react if she had. Kemper chuckled.

"Well, I am now. So... even if that other part of us hanging out is done, why don't you tell me what got you so messed up? Even if I can't help, we'll only know for sure once you tell me."

The doberman remained silent for a short while. They each took another bite of their shared dessert, both double dipping with their churros but neither seeming to care after all the fluids they had already exchanged many a time before. Eventually Freya sighed, and spoke.

"Work has been a real fucker lately. Exercise helps. So does sex. But... even with those outlets, it's still getting more and more hard to cope. To deal with it and come home at the end of the day feeling like anything but a total sack of shit. They keep asking more and more of me, and every time I manage to meet whatever insane new idea they have, they just pile something else on top. They've made it clear I'm the only one in my department who can solve the problems they're asking me to solve, and that they're not gonna fire or replace any of the others who can't solve them. It's all just on me. I'd quit in a heartbeat if I could, but... I can't. I can't lose this job, and I don't have the time or the energy to look for another one after I'm done working there every day. I... there are times when I just want to scream at them. When I want to throw things at my co-workers and tell them to fucking get off their asses and actually help. But I can't even bring myself to say no when they ask me for more help, because what if they turn around and fire me the second that I do? What if they won't fire anyone else because I'm the replaceable one, and they just plan on using me up until I'm a fucking dried out husk. What if..."

Her voice trailed off, and she frowned as she looked down between them, right next to the pot of chocolate. She was holding the pot gently in one hand, having tipped its mostly empty form over slightly to get the last remnants of chocolate out for her last bite of churro. Only now Kemper was easing the pot out of her grasp with one of his hands, and taking her paw into the other one with a reassuring squeeze.

She could see the nerves on Kemper's face as he did so, the worry that he was being too personal, too intimate in that moment of offering comfort and kindness. But to the sabretoothed cat's relief, and to Freya's own too in many respects, she let him hold her hand. She let him, shaking her head again as their paws fell back to the table in lingering contact.

"I don't know why I'm bothering to tell you any of this. It doesn't help. It doesn't change the facts or how fucking screwed I am."

Kemper shrugged and smiled.

"Maybe not. But, you did say it. You chose to say it rather than keep it to yourself. And now somebody else knows how you're feeling. Even if they can't do anything to fix the root cause, they'll understand when they see you upset or angry. They'll understand why it's important that they do whatever they can to help you feel better, in whatever ways you want to try and feel better."

Freya scowled.

"I don't want that. I don't want you feeling obligated to make me feel better. I don't want you beholden to me. We both enjoyed our time together, Kemper, and you don't owe me anything for it."

The cat chuckled softly back at her, smirking as Freya peered at him curiously in return.

"I know I don't. Really. I know I don't have to do anything, and that you would totally understand if I said I was done with this, or if I asked you if we could just go back to the way things were with you messaging me for sex and not ever asking me to talk again. But... those things aren't mutually exclusive, y'know?"

Freya's brow remained furrowed. Kemper smiled and continued to talk.

"If you want, we can... have meals. Talk. You can share your problems and I can listen, even offer any thoughts if I have them or at least commiserate with you about how shitty your situation is. Then the next morning you can go on a jog and have me meet you at the park for a quick fuck, and I don't have to mention a single word about the night before. Or, y'know, I can. I can ask you how you feel that morning, and... I dunno, hold your hand while we fuck."

He squeezed her paw within his smaller hand's grasp, and they both snorted with laughter. Kemper shrugged.

"I can't say I know what I'm talking about because I've never known anyone like you before, Freya, or spent time with a person the way I've spent time with you. But, if what you're worried about is me starting to care too much, and taking that caring, that emotion to mean that whatever else we do together has to become more serious and more intense, more involved? You really don't have to worry. I'm a grown up, just like you, and if I'm not grown up enough to fuck you and be your friend without making it weird, I don't deserve either."

Freya blushed. Not the kind of red faced excitement he'd seen upon her face during sex many a time, but a real blush of emotive embarrassment. She met his gaze, and squeezed his hand firmly back within hers.

"I'm really glad you understand, Kemper. Because... I'm not a romance kind of gal. And, I don't mean that in the bullshit I'm just not that into you kinda way. I mean it in the, no, really, I'm not into romance, kind of way. The aromantic kind of way, y'know?"

Kemper nodded, but said nothing. The doberman pressed on.

"What you're talking about... us talking, us fucking, us fucking then talking, talking then fucking; it sounds a lot like dating. And when someone starts talking about dating that leads to a whole lot of other conversations that I'm just not interested in having. Monogamy, responsibility, deep emotional connections based on romantic love. There are times when I wish I could deal with that, when I wish I could get it and go along with it like I see so many other couples doing, even if most of them seem kinda miserable because of it. But, I can't. More importantly I won't, because... that'd make me just as miserable as work is right now, y'know?"

The cat sighed, and nodded once again.

"Yeah, I think I understand. And, I definitely understand you being worried. But, while you're right that what I said then could sound like dating, it doesn't have to be. It really doesn't. I would really, really like it if I could be your friend, Freya. And, if I'm honest? I would like it if we could try to be friends and continue what it was that we shared before this, whether they're kept separate or mingled together somehow."

Freya looked undecided. She looked worried and frankly a little scared, something that Kemper wasn't used to seeing from the powerful and usually so confident, so in control doberman. Thankfully it was at that moment a thought crossed Kemper's mind. A thought which might have been foolish or might have been genius, but which to him felt worth it to mention at the time regardless.

"Like... as a friend who you've talked to about your problems, I could suggest maybe you try to motivate yourself with your desire to look for a new job the same way you do with your exercise. I could suggest that maybe, if you think it'd help... you could call on your fuck-buddy after work, and get him to be there with you while you're filling out resumes and stuff. Motivating you while you work."

The doberman opened her muzzle to say something, then closed it again suddenly as though she had only just started to actually think about what Kemper was suggesting.

"I..."

She swallowed rather thickly, and glanced around the restaurant for a moment as though seeking the location of the nearest restroom into which they could both fit.

"I... didn't think of that."

Again her cheeks flushed, and once again, for the first time in far too many days, Kemper saw a familiar fire, a determination in her eyes.

"Kemper?"

The sabretoothed feline felt her hand tighten its grip upon his, while with her other hand Freya calmly signalled for someone to bring them their check. He grinned, hoping he knew precisely what was coming.

"Yeah, Freya?"

For a moment the doberman paused as though considering her question one last time, and then...

"Wanna come back to my place?"

Kemper grinned.

"I'd like that. You wanna get started on those resumes tonight?"

Freya smirked and rolled her eyes playfully, but shook her head.

"No."

She winked at Kemper, leaning in close and whispering to him even as they both saw a server approaching with their check, getting closer and closer by the second.

"Actually, I thought you could fuck my brains out until I forget all about all that crap for just one evening... and perhaps finally let me find out what that knot of yours feels like when it's locked inside me."

By Jeeves

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