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Lionel was batting at thin air. Lionel staggered back crashed into a chair fell over it and onto the floor, still yelling blue murder. Before Lionel hit the floor Tom had Candy’s lead in his mouth and the cats jumped, table, windowsill, through the open fanlight and with hardly a sound landed on the same dustbin lid in the side alley of the bar, thence a short hop to the ground. As they hit the ground Candy took off for the darkened end of the passage. Tom dug his feet in, the lead went tight and Candy might as well of hit a brick wall. Her back end overtook her front end and Candy was a sprawled heap on the ground facing Tom. She scrambled upright and growled, Tom growled back. Candy had literally just come into season. Tom knew this. It was his interest in her. Candy a true slave to her submissive female hormones obeyed them and approached Tom. As she came up to him her head dipped and rubbed the side of his neck getting secretions on her fur from his scent gland. Then she turned. I knew she knew I was there. But she wouldn’t turn around. I leaned my shoulder against the door frame and watched her move around the kitchen. She wore the shortest skirt she had, the tightest tank top that was in her drawer. Her movements were fluid. I had turned on the music she liked to make love to. She wore the outfit she was sure would tempt me. I pushed off the frame, silently stepping behind her. Her breath caught, the pulse in her neck fluttering wildly. My hands gripped her hips, my erection tight against her ass. I slid my hands up her sides and over her shoulders. My right hand slid down her right arm, pulling the spoon from her hand. I laid it down on the stove. My fingers laced through hers. My other hand slid from her shoulder back to her waist. My fingers splayed over her stomach. Slowly, I started rocking my hips back and forth, humming in her ear. She sighs, relaxing against me, swaying her hips in time with mine. I draw our joined hands towards her heart, resting.
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