45 lines
3.0 KiB
HTML
45 lines
3.0 KiB
HTML
|
<!doctype html>
|
||
|
<html>
|
||
|
<head>
|
||
|
<title>Zk | Stuck</title>
|
||
|
<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="/style.css" />
|
||
|
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width" />
|
||
|
<meta charset="utf-8" />
|
||
|
</head>
|
||
|
<body>
|
||
|
<main>
|
||
|
<header>
|
||
|
<h1>Zk | Stuck</h1>
|
||
|
</header>
|
||
|
<article class="content">
|
||
|
<p><span class="tag">writing</span> <span class="tag">fiction</span> <span class="tag">sawtooth</span> <span class="tag">furry</span> <span class="tag">erotica</span> <span class="tag">short-story</span></p>
|
||
|
<p>“Who the hell are you chatting to?”</p>
|
||
|
<p>She felt Ryan shift behind her, within her, heard a quiet grunt to go along with the subtle clack of the other coyote’s claws against phone screen, met it with a grunt of her own.</p>
|
||
|
<p>“Jake. He wanted to head out, I guess.”</p>
|
||
|
<p>Vic barked out a laugh and shook her head against the pillow. “Yeah? What’d you tell him?”</p>
|
||
|
<p>“The truth.”</p>
|
||
|
<p>“Wait, what?”</p>
|
||
|
<p>He laughed and leaned forward to kiss at her cheek. She’d turned her head to try and glare at him, but the angle wasn’t great. “Told him I was stuck at home for a bit. See? The truth.”</p>
|
||
|
<p>“Brat.” Vic huffed and squirmed back against Ryan’s chest as best as the position would allow, though it necessitated an arch of her lower back. If nothing else, it got him to set his phone to the side.</p>
|
||
|
<p>“Bitch,” he countered, voice a pleasant growl.</p>
|
||
|
<hr />
|
||
|
<p>The night was supposed to be a boring one. Uninteresting. They had planned nothing. One of those nights where dinner is “scrounge” and the TV is showing “I don’t know, whatever you want.” Perfectly Wednesday in every way.</p>
|
||
|
<p>All Vic had wanted to do after getting off work was head home and shower. Too long spent on the road. Too many buyers looking at too many homes. Too many hours spent in front of the MLS listings in her cramped office, aircon turned just below comfortable for whatever godforsaken reason. All of it added up to a greasy feeling in her fur and a sensation that the cloth of her clothing holding a bit too much moisture.</p>
|
||
|
<p><em>Go home, shower, flop in front of the TV, and beg a backrub out of Ryan. He owes me.</em></p>
|
||
|
<p>Well, not strictly true. No one was keeping track. But she’d helped him groom in the morning, so it was only fair, right?</p>
|
||
|
<p>A nothing Wednesday with clients going nowhere, a reasonable drive in her sensible car, sensible clothing bearing the sensible scents of the office.</p>
|
||
|
</article>
|
||
|
<footer>
|
||
|
<p>Page generated on 2020-09-16</p>
|
||
|
</footer>
|
||
|
</main>
|
||
|
<script type="text/javascript">
|
||
|
document.querySelectorAll('.tag').forEach(tag => {
|
||
|
let text = tag.innerText;
|
||
|
tag.innerText = '';
|
||
|
tag.innerHTML = `<a href="/tags.html#${text}">${text}</a>`;
|
||
|
});
|
||
|
</script>
|
||
|
</body>
|
||
|
</html>
|