Furry High (furry 'coming of age' story) R18+

8

"Get, the fuck out of my car, right now," Robin said firmly as she pulled up outside of her house.

That kind of pulled me out of a 20-minute deep daze I had fallen into from listening intently to a couple of jackasses argue on the radio.
'All I'm saying is: if you want to get rid of a kid because you can't support them, you should have the right to abort them.
The guy who was saying that was some slurring idiot who sounded a little bit too laid back for his job. But people love that these days.
Now, he ain't an idiot for what he believes in, he's just an idiot for saying his beliefs on the air-tight radio channel he worked on.
Then, enter Christine: your everyday leopard who does fashion commentary because she's too overweight to be on the cat-walk herself.
Well, that's just disrespectful to all that innocent life, Paul. Life is still life, and you're a murderer if you think any different.
Seemed like a fair approach, If you're into all that.
Well then Christine, to that I say this: a coat-hangers' gotta do, what a coat-hangers' gotta do.
Yikes.

It hadn't taken too long for me to start breaking down in tears on the drive, and through an endless series of croaks and stutters, I explained to Robin everything that happened last night.

All of it.

Meeting Adrian.
The drunken fight,
Even the whole experience of trying drugs for the first time, even though she hadn't been too happy about that:
"Jesus Christ, Skim!" She had yelled, beating the steering wheel ruthlessly.
"I leave you for five fucking minutes and you're already smoking pot!!"

I had tried to kinda hide in myself, but nothing (and I mean, nothing) can hide from the rearview mirror.
"I nuh-know, " I had tried to say. Feels like most of my talk is 'trying to say'. "I was just so f-f... Fucking tired..."

I don't know foxes do it: but they're always comfortable going dead silent after an argument.

----------------------------

The car pulled to a jolting stop beside the flourishing garden of a bee-farm. Wait shit, we're pulled outside Robin's house! And I could tell that from what I heard before I even saw the well-kept bushes of lavender: bee-enclosures were all rowed up along her dad's lawn like honey-filled filing cabinets.
And those little fuckers could buzz, too.

"I mean it, bud." Robin went on, cracking a smile.
"I've had enough of your rodent ass rubbing against my back seats."

I held in a chuckle as a slid along the car seat some more before I got out.
Robin got out with me.
"Why? Is my fur muh-messing up all the c-cum stains?"

"Yeah." Robin said, and she popped open the trunk for me.
"I like my cumstains, and I've been nice enough to give you a lift to my place so you can shower and shit without your parents barking questions at you. And what do you do? Fuck up my precious cumstains, that's what."

"Well I cuh-could probably replace them I had the chuh, c-chance."

Robin hauled out my clothes of bags and slapped it against my chest with a zipper-stung thud.
"No, you can't Skim, " She'd make a good actor, Robin. But she can never keep a straight face. "Those stains might not be much to you, Mr Late. But for me, they're fuckin' achievements. I've had a lot of horny boys back there with some serious machinery. And I ain't talking about your little Late-sized cock, too. I'm talking about some fucking cappuccinos. Some real double-strength Colombian type shit."

"F-Fuck, didn't know it wuh-was possible to get some stronger coffee than this." I shook my hips at her.

The fox snickered.
"So when I order that extra 'shot', after I've taken the first one down the throat. That bad-boy ends up stained in the seat, just for me to remember." She finished, muzzle held high like she was showing off her trophy display or something.