The Kissing Booth

by Strega 

Story Copyright (C) By: Strega
 1998 - All rights reserved.

Story not to be reprinted, or redistributed, without author's Permission.

If you wish to use the stories, or 
anything copyright by me, please e-mail me.
I'll also forward any mail to the author.

  The Kissing Booth

"Hey, man."
Dan squirmed, trying to sink back into that infinitely comfortable black void of sleep.  Tried to catch the fragments of dream, something about flying….
"Hey."  The hand prodded his shoulder again, and he blinked his eyes open.  A ray of sunlight lit the room, and he closed them again, groaning.  "Aw. Go ‘way."
"It’s almost eight.  Class at nine, right?"  He opened his eyes again, found Sean standing next to his bed.  The black fox looked concerned.
"All right."  Rubbing his eyes, he rolled over and stuck out his legs, sitting up in bed.  There was something off.  "What the heck?"
"That’s what I said."  Sean grinned at him.  "Sleeping Au Naturale, eh?"  Dan shook his head.  Not only was he sleeping on top of the coverlet, the bed still made, but he was naked.  As naked as a furry gets, anyway.  "Weird."
"Got drunk, huh?"  Sean chuckled.  "Again?"  Dan half-snarled a reply.
"No, damn it.  You know I get drunk about once a semester.  Last time was enough…"  His voice trailed off.  Pulling open the drawer under his bed, he dug out a pair of shorts.  But… "Where are my clothes from last night?"  He stole a glance at the laundry basket in his open locker.  No black T-shirt there, no white shorts, and no sneakers.
"Dunno.  I woke up and saw you sleeping like that.  Didn’t think to ask dumb questions."  Sean grinned again.  "So, want to talk about it?"
"Bah."  Dan pulled the shorts on, button-fly in back for his short tail and in front for necessities.  "I want to know where my…wallet."  He put his hand on it, right there next to the TV on the counter that ran along the window side of the room.  Next to the wallet, his car keys.  Three dollars and some coins in his wallet, he saw.  He’d had twenty....   "Quit it."
Sean was poking him in the shoulder, then patting it.  "Stop that."
"No, man."  Dan turned to look, and found the fox goggling at him.  "It’s your fur."  He kept right on patting until Dan brushed his hand away.  "Fur?"  He turned, looked in the mirror.
A badger looked back at him.  Shorter than the fox behind him, yellow-gray fur, broad body, shoulders so sloped he didn’t have much of a neck.  Like a wrestler, which he’d been in high school.   Black facefur with those bold white stripes.  Not as morphic as a lot of furs...sheathtip poked out of his shorts, and he buttoned them, a blush reddening the fur inside his ears.  "What?"
"I don’t know where you were last night, but you are sure clean."  Sean leaned in, sniffed his shoulder now.  "I mean, you are CLEAN.  You aren’t this clean when you get out of the shower."
Dan looked at his forearm, sniffed it.  Like all mustelids, his skin secreted oil that kept his fur healthy, incidentally giving him a lot of his personal body odor.  As long as he showered every day, he wasn’t too bad to be around.  But now, his fur was almost odorless.  No scent of shampoo or soap, and plain water didn’t take out the oil like that.  He sniffed…"Holy shit."
"What?"  Sean blinked.  "Problem?"
Dan help up his hand wordlessly, pads toward the fox.  It took Sean a minute.
"What happened to the scar?"  The fox peered at his palm.  Two weeks ago, Dan had been at an illicit poker party down the hall, and had drunk rather more than a badger should.  Despite his strong constitution, he had rapidly become tipsy, finally toppling off the chair and landing on his beer bottle.  Which had incontinently shattered, giving him a cut the nurse had needed eight stitches to close.  The still-pinkish scar had reminded him that badgers’ rapid digestion soaked up alcohol fast.
It was gone, now.  Dan just blinked. 
"Hey, where were you last night?  It has to have something to do with that."
Dan found himself sitting, again.  Just looking at his hand.  His hand, and his clean, clean fur.  "What the fuck is going on…."
"Man, where were you last night?"
"I went to the carnival with Randy and Mike…."
* * *
University of Pennsylvania, Harrisburg, was not the most prestigious college Dan had applied to.  But the engineering program was well-regarded, and Dan liked the fact that it was a lot closer to home than the state U in Arizona, the other interested school.  Downside: Mostly small-town sorts of entertainments.  That wasn’t so bad; Dan was a country badger at heart.  So his friends the stoat and ram hadn’t had any trouble getting him to go to the traveling carnival on Sunday night.
It was a loud place.  Music blared, a local band playing in the beer tent, and the rides and barkers added to the din.  Hundreds of furries crowded the grassy aisles between the rides, the booths with food and drink and games, the ice cream stand he stopped at.  He lost track of his friends quickly, seeing them last when they vanished into the little arcade with handfuls of tokens.  Lots of children, and teenagers, and local girls.  Eyeing them casually made the evening go by quickly
He found himself in a line, forced willy-nilly there by a press of people exiting the beer tent.  Crowded in next to a half-drunken goat, he went with the flow, and as the crowd parted, he stepped away.  But the goat grabbed his shoulder.
"What, na’ gonna buy a kiss?"  The goat leered at him, cackling.  Dan flicked an ear at the weirdo…then saw where the line led.  ‘Kissing Booth – Kisses, $1.’ The sign said.  Dan had to smile.
"Nah, man.  Not tonight…"  He paused.  A cougar and a wolf were in line ahead of him, both almost fully anthro and broad shouldered, too tall to see past.  But he got a glimpse of one of the women in the booth.  A white-furred vixen, shapely and athletic-looking.  He’d always liked the look of a vixen’s face, and the rest of her was just as appealing.  With no real goal for the next few minutes, he idled in line, sneaking glances at her.
* * *
"We were at the carnival…I was, anyway.  I don’t know where the others got to.  There was a kissing booth, so I stood in line – Don’t grin like that, a lot of carnivals have those, it’s nothing dirty.  Anyway, I was looking at the vixen in the booth…."
* * *
And then he was to the head of the line, and eyeing the vixen anything but casually.  She leaned against the counter with a grin, tapping the box she’d been sticking dollar bills into, and waved away the cougar she’d just kissed.  Dan had to admit, she had made the cat stagger.  He reached for his wallet…and saw the sheathtip there, almost hidden in her belly fur.
She…shi…read his expression at once.  "It’s all right.  I get that a lot.  Have a fun evening."  Shi giggled, and showed him the little paper tag he’d have had for a dollar along with his kiss: ‘Kissed by Shirra’.  Shi was so cheerful, Dan almost had to lean in and kiss anyway…but herms made him vaguely nervous, and shi did sport the most amazing set of canines.  He turned, found a crowd in the way, made to sidle past the other way along the front of the booth…and met the eyes of the other woman in the booth.
Black and white fur, something like a skunkette…but not quite.  Her muzzle was pointed, cheeks broad, muscles standing out of her jaws as though she chewed bones for her entertainment.  Thick neck, sloped shoulders, and, as he looked lower, four small breasts on a slinky, black-furred torso.  Four arms as well, wrapped in fur so black it shone, blue highlights from the lights glossing the curves.  For white, an almost raccoon-like mask, though the colors inverted, white around and below her eyes and trailing back in stripes to run beneath her ears.  And such eyes: Black, so black, utterly unreadable, like polished obsidian.  She…smiled…back, lifting long, white whiskers, and Dan saw her tail move, fluffy and doublestriped as a skunkette’s.
"Um."  Dan fidgeted, glancing at the strong arms, still somehow feminine, the musteline flexibility of her body, as she turned to giggle at the vixen.  ‘Shirra’ giggled back, and they both stared at him.  "Well, hello."
"Hi."  She smiled again, not with her lips, which hardly moved, but with a lift of white whiskers on chops and above her eyes.  There was a touch of color to her, after all, a pink nose just about the size of his thumbpad.  He resisted the urge to touch one to the other, and glanced down to make sure no male bits were hiding.  But she seemed female enough…if alien.
"Well, O badger…"  She tapped one of four clawed fingers on the counter, making six digits with the two opposing clawless thumbs, and leaned forward.  "Will it be a kiss?"
Dan hesitated, then turned away.  "Um, thank you anyway."  He padded off, hearing giggles above the music.
* * *
"…And there was this skunkette, well, not really, but close.  She and the vixen giggled at me, but I didn’t want to kiss either…the skunkette was really strange looking.  So I went looking for Mike and Randy…."
* * *
But, somehow, he was back in the line again.  This time, next to a raccoon even shorter than himself. 
"Isn’t she gorgeous?"  The raccoon sighed.  "She’s so…exotic."
"Gorgeous."  Dan tasted the word.  He wouldn’t have picked it.  "She’s…menacing.  Did you see how muscular her jaws were?  I half expected her to try to take a bite out of me."
"Or a kiss."  The little coon giggled.  "She and the vixen both nibble on you.  I think my nose is scratched from last time."  He rubbed the black pad.  "They’re both knockouts."
Dan shook his head.  "I was looking at the vixen, till I saw it was a shi.  And then, that skunkette…thing."  He waved a long-clawed hand dismissively.
"OK, they are weird."  She coon chuckled.  "So why are you in line?"
Dan had to think about that.  And, next thing he knew, the coon was locking muzzles with the vixen, and he was staring the ‘exotic’ skunk in the eyes.  Not wavering, he plunked a bill on the counter.  And she reached for him.
Strong, padded hands gripped at his shoulders, his hips, sliding familiarly under clothing to rub his fur, as her muzzle drew close.  She didn’t wait for him to invite a kiss, or accept one; she thrust it upon him, pressing her muzzle to his own, her lips parting.  Fangs scraped over his chin and nose gently as she…enveloped…his muzzle.
He jerked back, or tried to.  Her sleek pelt disguised muscles like braided metal, and she held him to her, her tongue stroking out to tickle his cheek and ear before she began to withdraw.  And a last tickle, of her tongue on his own, as his jaw dropped.  Grinning, she rested her muzzle on one hand, and he found himself staggering to the side as a bear behind him pushed to the fore.
A last glimpse, as the bear slapped down his dollar, and the skunkette had turned to say something to the vixen.  They grinned at each other, and Dan looked at the female’s black and white back, curled, intricate stripes, like the pattern of veins on a leaf.  From the back, she didn't look intimidating at all.
* * *
"And I felt something in my hand."  He grimaced at the leer Sean gave him.  "It was a tag, like the one 'Shirra' would have given me.  It read 'Kissed by Strega.' 
* * *
He turned the bit of cardboard nervelessly in his fingers, and found a number on the back.  502.  Why numbered?
It was late, now.  The crowds were beginning to thin.  And, again, he was in the line.  He fidgeted as he waited, not even noticing that same raccoon trying to engage him in conversation.  The line dragged on…and, finally, he saw her again.  She flashed him that smile, just as she was leaning in to kiss a rabbit.  He was sure the smile was for him, then thought it was for the rabbit, muzzle buried in the skunkette's and tail twitching happily.  He made to leave the line, stopped, began to step away again, and couldn't.  It wasn't that she was making him horny, he thought.  Though there was that, too.
She was just…what had he said earlier?  Dangerous.
He stepped up to take his kiss, and she turned to whisper to Shirra.  She barely murmured, but Dan's ears were better than most anyone's he knew.
"Do you think Elly can cover for me tomorrow?"
The vixen eyed him covertly.  "Only one day?  He's almost as big as you."
"I'll manage."  Strega turned back to him, and Dan puzzled over the supposedly secret conversation.  Why would his size be important?  He lost the train of thought, though, as she smiled with that whisker-twitch.
"I see you're back, badgery one.  Do you know, the booth closes in a few minutes."  Her chops wrinkled, an effort at a more normal smile, and Dan found himself smiling back.  "And I haven't eaten all day.  Could I prevail upon you to be my escort?"
So it was he and she padded off together, her lower left hand tracing a fingerpad along his spine.  It tickled, and she rubbed at the root of his tail, starting a tingle that threatened to transfer itself to his groin.  He looked away, a little embarrassed, and then chuckled when her stomach gurgled so loudly he could hear it over the music.  "Hungry, eh?"
She nodded.  "Oh, yes."  She rubbed his tailroot again.  "We could stop somewhere, or eat at my place…"  He blinked.
"How far…We've just met." 
She giggled, a hoarse and growly sound.  "Farther than you expect, probably."
He shook his head just a fraction, then smiled.  Her strange looks were beginning to grow on him.  "Should I take you dancing first?"
"No."  The half-smile was back, and the lifted whiskers.  "I think dinner is enough."
* * *
"…And I remember going to the booth one more time.  I think.  The line…I think I may have given up.  I remember thinking that I shouldn't even be in line.  And then…"  Dan gestured helplessly.  "Here."
Sean rubbed his chin.  "Well, the carnival opens at 4, I think.  I suppose we could go by tonight.  Looking at you, though…well, you sure seem OK."
Dan sighed, and dug through the drawers for another shirt.  His favorite, black with glow in the dark constellations, was still missing, but he had class in half an hour.  "I guess."
* * *
In the dark of her den, Strega lay curled, her doublestriped tail wrapped like a cloak about herself.  She woke from her doze, and slowly stroked her fingers over the bulk of her swollen, pregnant-looking middle.  There was still a shape there, bulging through the fur heavily, but she could feel it was softer now, further along the digestive process.  Even though she'd assumed a slightly larger shape to feed, the badger was a heavy meal, and she settled down again to let her stomach have more energy to work.  By now the new badger had woken, and perhaps wondered how he had lost those hours, how he had gotten home.  The technology she employed to copy her prey was very different from the magic Shirra used, but on this world, just as mysterious.  With a hiccup, she rolled onto her side, and drifted back into her digestive torpor.  Plenty of time to absorb this one, filling her belly and needs for a few days, until she chose the next to give her special kiss….

The End…?