"You fucking scumbag! We're done! You and that goddamn c-"
Jon hung up. He wasn't sure if his tiredness was from the late hour, or from the emotional strain brought on by Liz's bullshit. In hindsight, it might've been better not to tell her that there was nothing she could give him that Garfield couldn't; it was true, but the prejudice that people hold in their hearts, that deep-rooted part of the psyche that says "I am above all other living things" kills any attempt to understand that an animal can provide just as much as any human. As a veterinarian, Liz was especially ignorant, fawning over her patients as though they were infants incapable of feelings beyond pleasure or pain. Watching Jon adrift in the sea of his thoughts, Garfield twirled his tail seductively. He understood every word of that little exchange, and knew that such a moment of weakness, brought about through months of his own careful planning and execution, couldn't be allowed to go to waste. Indeed, even now Jon noted the slender appendage flicking slowly, purposefully, seeming to caress the air. Yet Jon's mind lingered longer than his eyes; Garfield's penetrating stare was simply too much to match. Though Jon didn't yet know it, those seeds of lust planted months ago now stood ready for reaping, a sumptuous harvest bursting forth from the ground, its fruit weighing down the branches in their fullness. As Jon reflected on what he himself had meant by "fulfilment" (for even one with such a high view of animals as he couldn't possibly mean…), the fruit's connection with its branches grew ever weaker.
"I'm hungry buddy; how about I warm up that lasagna?"Garfield licked his lips. This was hardly the first time he'd made such a gesture in Jon's presence, yet unlike all those other times, Jon seemed to lose himself at the sight, if only for a second. Jon strode over to the fridge and removed the layered meat and cheese dish, placing it in the oven to cook.
The oven clicked to life, and the temperature began to rise.
In spite of himself, Jon removed his shirt, exposing his pathetic, scrawny body to the air. It was an eternal insecurity of his, despite Liz's constant reassurance that she didn't mind. Didn't mind. The heartless bitch could've at least insulted him; it would've been more honest. But in that moment, he felt a confidence unlike anything he'd known, as Garfield's eyes roamed over every inch of exposed skin, drinking him in. Jon turned to look at Garfield, and this time held his gaze, transfixed rather than repulsed.
The lasagna continued to cook.
Jon's breathing was rapid as he asked "Garfield… can I pet you?" The question came from deep within him, forcing itself into existence of its own accord. He'd never asked before; why would he? But there was something different this time, even if Jon didn't understand yet what that was.
The chill of the fridge had retreated to the core of the lasagna, as warmth filled each layer.
Jon strode over to Garfield slowly, right hand outstretched, quivering. Coyly, Garfield stayed in place on the counter, merely observing Jon's approach. Only the lazy flicks of his tail belied any feelings of his on the matter. Jon's hand had finally found its place on Garfield's back, and Jon began to stroke. Slowly, Jon's hand slid down Garfield's back, pressing down firmly, his fingers exploring the folds of Garfield's skin. Garfield began to purr, deeply, richly, until
*Suck*
He gasped as Jon's hand ran back up against the grain of his fur. On its journey back down, Garfield began to purr again.
The first bubbles appeared on the lasagna's surface.
Garfield stood up abruptly, no mean feat after the heavy petting. "What's wrong buddy?" Jon's voice was a sultry whisper. Garfield walked a bit further away from Jon, before turning around, looking first at the expanse of empty counter, and then at Jon. "You want me to get up there with you?" Garfield's tail began to move rapidly, and he licked his lips. Dutifully, Jon climbed onto the counter and laid down. Garfield strode back over and climbed onto Jon at the waist, facing Jon's pants, still on, still in the way. "Should I take these off?" Jon asked. Without turning around, Garfield's tail began to flick from side to side, tickling Jon's chest. Carefully, Jon raised his ass off the countertop, unbuttoning his pants at the same time, careful all the while to keep a steady platform for Garfield to sit on. The pants slid off first and, despite his trembling hands, the underwear followed. Jon lowered himself back down; the same couldn't be said for his engorged member, which, freed from its prison, stood at attention. Garfield's body moved up and down with Jon's now-laboured breathing, and he watched Jon's cock twitch in time with Jon's heartbeat. Garfield stood, and moved towards Jon's dick. Looming over it now, he bent down and sniffed. Jon had neglected his hygiene recently, as the pungent odour emanating from his penis made clear, but Garfield didn't mind. In fact, it made it all the more enticing…
Steam rose from the top of the lasagna, as its surface bubbled ferociously.
Jon was shaking in anticipation, unsure of what his cat would do next. Garfield continued to sniff Jon's cock for a moment, before finally taking a lick. His tongue was rough, of course, but this first taste was gentle, as though lightly brushing a piece of sandpaper. The next was not. The papillae on his tongue dug into the flesh of Jon's cock, raking it over on their journey from base to tip. Jon winced in pain, letting out a soft grunt as Garfield tortured his cock over and over and over again. The waves of pain rose and fell on an ocean of pleasure, intermixed with orgasmic swells, set to the rhythmic flicks and slurps of Garfield's tongue. "Garf… Garf… fucking hell I can't take it." Garfield ignored Jon's pleas. Relentlessly he licked, increasing intensity and speed now, and Jon's cock grew ever more red and scratched. It began to twitch violently, still in time with the accelerating pace of Jon's heartbeat, as a load began to swell in his balls, coaxed closer and closer to release with every flick.
The lasagna roasted in the heat of the oven, cheese oozing over the sides of the tray.
"Oh Garf, if you keep this up I'm gonna… ughhhh fuck" Jon gripped Garfield's haunches, white-knuckled, and began to brush his thumb over Garfield's asshole, increasing tempo as he got closer and closer to the limit. "Jesus Christ, I'm cumming." Jon didn't say it so much as he pushed out the words, emptying his chest as well as his balls. Garfield could barely hang on as Jon's legs kicked out desperately, while his cock erupted into a fountain of semen, firing off thick strings that splashed back down onto his chest and clung to Garfield's coat. Jon's strength seemed to leave along with his load, and he slumped back onto the counter, exhausted. Garfield, however, had no intention of leaving things there. He turned to face Jon's head, and stalked forward, coming to a stop with his erect penis position over Jon's mouth. Wordlessly, Jon took it into his mouth as Garfield braced himself on the counter, biting down on Jon's hair for support. Garfield began to thrust, driving his cock harder and harder into Jon's mouth. Garfield's penis was rough, covered in bumps running up to its furry sheath; Jon could take its entire length with ease. He began to suck in time with Garfield's thrusts, swirling his tongue all around the shaft. Garfield fucked at the warm hole of Jon's mouth with reckless abandon.
The surface of the lasagna had become charred, smoke rising from its black crust.
Jon wrapped his left arm around Garfield's hind quarters; with his right hand, he fumbled around on the counter until he found the bottle of olive oil sitting nearby. Deftly, he unscrewed the cap, letting the oil ooze out over his fingers. After setting the bottle back down he reached up and began to explore Garfield's butt, probing with his fingers until he found Garfield's asshole, smearing oil everywhere his fingers wandered. He traced the rim, feeling Garfield's cock twitch in his mouth as he teased. Finally Jon began to put his finger in; it was incredibly tight, but he continued pushing, gently yet firmly, his finger sliding slowly along into Garfield's descending colon. Garfield was purring so hard now it seemed to vibrate his entire body, and he shuddered as Jon's finger slipped out of his ass before plunging back in, this time with more force and speed. Out and in, out and in, Garfield's cock and Jon's finger pounded the holes to which they'd been assigned, as cat and owner fucked each other silly.
The lasagna could barely be seen now through the haze in the oven, highlighted by bursts of flame.
Garfield was close, and he began tugging on Jon's hair with more force. His ability to fuck Jon's face was beginning to be hampered by the shaking in his legs, as he verged on an orgasm unliking anything he'd yet known. Garfield released his bite to let out a meow before clamping back down on Jon's hair with renewed vigour, while fucking Jon's face even harder. The swirling of Jon's tongue had him in a state of mindless ecstasy, as Garfield's consciousness fled further from the physical and into the depths of his mind. The world beyond this counter, beyond the warmth of Jon's mouth and the pressure of Jon's finger in his ass, ceased to exist, concentrated on a fine point in space and time, a point of pleasure few in this life can ever know. But this sort of focus is fleeting, and the density of feeling contained therein was too much for Garfield's body to handle. He exploded, his body convulsing violently as he fired sharp streams of cum down Jon's throat. The flavour was bitter with a tinge of salt, but Jon dutifully swallowed every last rope, the product of his own hard work. Garfield collapsed onto Jon's face, no longer able to move after the effort he'd expended. Jon too simply lay back on the counter, allowing his arms to fall at his sides. Garfield's penis began to contract, still in Jon's mouth, and the two of them drifted off into a deep sleep.
The flames had begun to stab out of the oven, as the lasagna was replaced by a blazing inferno. Smoke vented out of the top of the door, no longer able to be contained, and drifted slowly up towards the smoke alarm.
Its beeping went unheard.