“The Special Day”
By RD Rivero
“Ahhh!” Shark yawned long and loud as he awoke amidst the
bubbles of his aquatic bed, stretching his fins, his toothy mouth gapping. His land-mode limbs gradually took form and,
once his lungs were ready, he bobbed his head and shoulders up over the water.
“Oh, no!” he lamented in surprise for the sun was already
out. He looked at once to the clock,
having sworn he had set the alarm last night to six. But either it had failed to stir him- an unlikely possibility
because he could always hear it in his tank- or someone had turned it off. Anyway, it did not matter, it was nine and
his head-start on the day had evaporated.
From the aquarium, that was built neatly into the floor, to
the bathroom just at the other end of the room, he rushed through the slants of
dusty light coming through bare windows naked and dripping wet. He had a lot of chores to do around the
house, boring stuff that he had wanted to get done with early. Now it was too late and he was not a happy
fish.
It was a special day, after all and how he wanted everything
to be perfect.
“My scales!” he said as he looked into the full-body mirror,
hands about his face. He ran his
fingers across his features. “It isn’t
fair,” he lamented, “it just isn’t fair.”
After a quick, hot, steamy shower- that paled in comparison
to the naughty thoughts about a certain lion that crossed his mind often enough
from time to time- he dressed into more appropriate attire. Where he living on an island in the middle
of no where, of course, he would have had no need for such things. Nevertheless, if he was supposed to be
‘covered’ then he was going to have some fun with it at least. Up, bright-white boxers with the words
‘property of TW’ stitched to the crotch.
Over that, a loose pair of swimming trunks. On hand, a sharp harpoon to complete the outfit.
Shark smiled and sighed.
Not a regular old sigh, no, it was one, long, convoluted pronouncement
of the name ‘ThunderWolf’ that bellowed up from his heart. Again his mind wandered-
...cloudy visions of a
Tarzan-like saber-lion, swinging from vine to vine, almost naked but for a
thin, sheet that closely hugged his shapely feline parts, a thin sheet flapping
in the passing breeze, teasing him with brief flashes of x-rated views, he
could see himself clinging onto his lovely’s back, whipping mane in his face,
his hands falling, dropping down rippled muscles, drawing them, his eager
fingers, beneath the contours of that loincloth that itself was coming undone,
all the while he could almost feel the Thunderian’s tail wrapping around his
legs, he could almost sense the softness of his coat, the smoothness of his
tensed, studly build, the warmth of his....
Crashing back to reality, he moaned and pet his aching
hard-on through his tenting shorts, teasing, as it were, the pent-up longing in
his groin.
It was a special day, indeed, but the absence of his one and
only TW, well, he smiled.
As he ran up the stairs he thought to himself that doing his
work and chores would help to keep his mind of it “and everything else.” It was ten and he had not yet begun. He had to go to the market and buy fish,
juice and that cream cheese for the bagels he loved so much. He had to go to the store and pick up the
frame. He had to get on-line and email
the TCATGR. Then he had to go to the
beach and stalk the tourists. Yes, even
on that day he had to work.
“I bet Jagga’s responsible for Mondays. It’d just be like him to do it, too. He killed a whole planet, what’s Shark’s
special day while he’s at it?” He shook
his head. “If only it was a Saturday. Now that would be- WHAT??!!”
Something was wrong, very wrong. The refrigerator was full, the cabinets were stocked. The floors had been waxed, rugs vacuumed,
furniture dusted. Books were back in
their proper places. Papers had been
neatly filed and stored. Even his
‘Shark of the Year’ prize was hung up on the wall in its dark-oak case.
He was stunned- yes, there had been an intruder, but what
sort of guy would-
ding, dong came the front door
bell. A hand quickly followed with
knocks on the plane of glass next to the frame that were more violent, more
jarring.
“er,” he growled, somewhat disconcerted. His territory had been invaded and by
someone who had decided to make himself at home no less. He feared for a moment that he was in a
Rivero fic. “I’ll be right there!”
Much to his surprise, at the other side of the door was a
UPS man. It was not a friend or anyone
else he thought might make a trip down to see him, but then it was a Monday and
everyone he knew was probably busy with their lives. Still, the delivery guy was kind of cute in a human sort of way. Or maybe it was just the uniform, the brown
shorts and all.
“Um, Shark?” the curly-haired native asked, suddenly
realizing how much sense the name on the address slip made just then, his
unusually timid and uneasy voice masking the true nature of his burly,
beach-tan machoness. He was nervous,
visibly nervous and totally caught off guard by the fact that a half-man,
half-shark, dangerous-weapon-wielding creature had opened the door. “I have a package here for Shark,” he
continued, fidgeting his fingers on an electronic pad.
“Yeah, that’s me,” the fishy-one said with a bright, pointy
smile, teeth glimmering in wetness.
“I, um, I er, need you to sign here.” He extended the device toward Shark for him
to use to sign.
The aquatic man looked on at the strange, thin
contraption. He had never seen such a
thing before- most UPS guys would just leave his stuff at the door anyway. Well, he did what came instinctively to all
sharks- he took a bite out of the tablet, chomping down hard with his jaws, his
teeth barely missing the delivery man’s hands.
“Ahhh!” the uniform-clad worker wailed as he sprinted back
into his delivery van, suddenly grateful that his shorts were of the brown
pigment.
“What’s up with him?”
Shark asked himself as he spit little bits of plastic. He was always amused by how the humans
reacted to him. “Hehehe, well, I’ve got
a package!” He stared down at the
gargantuan box that lay across his front steps. “I wonder who could have sent it? I wonder that it is?”
Dragging it with his hands and kicking it with his knees
gently, he managed to get the manila container into his home. Forgetting in his excitement that whole
business about his ‘invader,’ he tore a rent into the box at once with his
harpoon and ripped off the flaps of the lid.
Floating above the bubble wrap was a note- a glossy, wet image of it
reflected off his black eyes.
“My dear Shark,” a disembodied voice began, “congratulations
on this special day! Hahaha, did you
really think your cruel and unusual dictator would forget? I’ve made you wait impatiently for this, but
a surprise is a surprise, no? I’m sure
you’ll enjoy this very much. And, in
accordance to shark-people tradition, it’s in 2000 parts!” In closing it was signed: “the evil, RD Rivero.”
“I just have to see what this is!” He grabbed onto the clear, protective wrap and pulled it
away. He could hear the sounds of
little things ruffling about.
Unsatisfied with the progress he was making, he ripped the box to shreds
and stepped aback as the contents of RD’s surprise spewed across the floor like
a melted snowman. “You insane
author! What is this?” He picked up one of the ‘pieces’ and
examined it. “This looks like- oh my
goodness! It’s a piece of Liono!” One of the two thousands interlocking,
three-dimensional pieces that made up the macabre puzzled scattered about the living
room. He read again the note and the
postscript scribbled on the back.
“Oh and in case you’re wondering, he’s all there, don’t
worry if, ahem, certain parts seem to be missing. They were never there!
Mwahahahaha!”
From the distance crashed thunder, lightning flashed.
“Of course he looked,” the shark-man mused as he stared at
the mess on the hardwood floor.
“Hehehe,” he chuckled to himself as the ideas- how wickedly kinky-
pranced about his mind. As he worked to
clear the broken box strips it occurred to him out of the blue, as it were,
that penis-flavored ice-cream would be quite an interesting concept, perhaps
even something to experiment with.
Perhaps. And as he stuffed the
bubble wrap into a drawer for later, he wondered just how the tasty treat would
best be made.
He gasped as an image of an erect member, dripping with
quickly-melting chocolate came to him and just as easily evaporated. Thinking about long, hard, pulsating cocks
only brought him back to-
Once again, to try to restrain his passions, Shark turned
his attention to something else: the macabre jigsaw puzzle. He examined the numerous pieces and
separated the ‘innards’ from the more obvious, outer parts. Fragments of head and limbs, segments of
chest and abdomen he slowly collected into neat piles- it would be quite a
daunting task, indeed, to put Liono back together.
He tried to fit two leg pieces together and although he was
unsuccessful, he was amazed at how carefully the interlocking contours had been
carved into the stiffened flesh.
The fishy-one stood and looked upon the micro-scenery,
running his hands over the scaly scalp of his head. For a passing moment it seemed that the picture was quite
clear. It seemed as if the smarmy,
redhead had exploded into those tiny pieces.
Something about that idea made him want to laugh out loud.
A disturbance in the over-all quiet of his abode, a series
of grunts and gruff language, sudden and unexpected, caused him to stop
contemplating the pleasant thoughts of Liono’s death and to concentrate on the
yet unresolved issue of his unknown intruder.
Keys jingled and dropped to the accompany of salty exclamations- that
time he was quick to act. Grabbing his
harpoon, he launched across the hall through the kitchen to the backdoor, where
a large silhouette on a yellow window blind alerted the presence of the
stranger behind the door.
“Aha!” he yelped aloud as he swung the door open.
Crouching over the back steps was none other than his own
insane lion.
ThunderWolf cradled in his arms a large, paper bag that
poor-packing had riddled with holes and tears.
The chaotically stacked groceries within could be seen right through the
crinkled flaps.
At that very moment the furry Thunderian reached the fallen
house keys, looked up and then arose slowly, gently so as to not spill the
contents of the bag.
“Oh, TW!” Shark exclaimed as he grabbed the saber-tooth and
pulled him in through the doorway. “I
wasn’t expecting you at all.”
ThunderWolf managed a faint grin beneath the fierce
distortions of his face. “Stupid store
clerks,” he said, bad words omitted, “couldn’t pack a bag right if their lives
depended on it!” He licked a red smear
from the inside of his palm. “And it
did.”
“Oh, there, there,” the ocean-traveler said as he set the
brown, paper container onto the counter.
A can of tuna fish broke loose from a rented and rolled onto the floor
where it gradually spiraled to a stop.
“You did all that for me?” He
petted his mate’s burly chest, careful to tap lovingly over his heart. “All of this? You beautiful lion!”
“I wanted you to sleep in late,” he answered, low but
clear. “It’s your special day.” He let his finger fondle under the
shark-man’s chin. “I love you, you
know.”
“Oh,” Shark fell into ThunderWolf’s arms. “I love you too!”
They kissed deeply, lost in each other’s warmth for what
seemed like forever. Locked in a tight
embrace, they wobbled around the room in a frenzied dance brought about by
their mutual humping. It was clear that
they missed each other greatly and that their bodies were more than eager to
taste their forbidden flesh.
Slipping on the can that had remained flat on its end,
inconspicuous on the newly-mopped floor, ThunderWolf landed on his back, dragging
Shark atop him. Grinning, the fishy-one
lightly kissed his lion’s nose then spread his fingers up and around his black,
flowing mane. The insane-one, for his
own part, purred contentedly at the titillating attention and let his own
fingers wander into the back of his mate’s swimming trunks. A wild, untamed look came from his eyes that
he quickly shut as a surge of euphoria shivered his body- he gasped and very
nimbly turned himself to the side.
“Hahahaha!” Shark giggled as he felt TW’s rough tongue lick
his neck. “My saber tooth, you’re so
romantic!” He sat up on the tiles,
noticing at once the throbbing tent that had become of the Thunderian’s shorts. “And you’re so thoughtful.” He teased the outline of the stiff shaft
with long, winding strokes whose lightest touch made the lion roll back his
eyes white.
The feline spread his legs to give the aqua-man easier
access. “You want to blow your candle,
birthday boy?” He added the flexing of
his biceps for emphasis- a show of raw masculinity that he knew drove him wild.
“Mmmm,” he drooled.
“I’m going to make a wish,” he said, his lips quivering over
ThunderWolf’s pulsating crotch, puckering as if he was going to whistle. “And then I’m going to eat you all up!” He rubbed his face along the sides of the
ready, meaty bulge. “So what flavor is
it?” He asked at length, after long, endless moments of making out with the
lion’s rock-hard cock- albeit with thick shorts in the way.
“Don’t you know by now?
Hehehe, chocolate cream,” he answered playfully though panting
lips. “Double cream, no, triple-” he
fell back again as if exhausted.
An idea from earlier came back to Shark just then: “Stay
right there! Don’t move!”
“Where are you going?”
ThunderWolf asked as he followed the gray figure with attentive, brown
eyes.
“You’ve been giving me ideas all morning.” He opened the freezer and from the haze of
the evolving smoke he pulled out a tub of chocolate fudge ice-cream. Returning to the reclined feline, he took a
spoon from the drawer and said: “Take off your shorts, hurry!”
Groggily, the cat got up onto his knees. “You know, this is starting to feel like a
really weird lemon,” he said as he unbuckled his belt.
“Where you expecting plot?
My studly lion- I shall devour you!”
He fretted about with the fur under his chin.
And with that, down came ThunderWolf’s shorts with a tad bit
of difficulty for his rod was thick and stiff.
Shark, unable to resist the temptation, reached out and
grabbed the exposed, aching member. He
clasped its smooth length in his fist and rubbed the dark, brown phallus up and
down. It was vein-bulging skin mostly,
with very little fur except around the base where the pubic skin was stretched
up its girth. Cupping shrunken
ball-sack hanging beneath it, the fish sat himself on the floor before the
awaiting object of his desires.
The lion lay back and it pointed up. His mate leaned over it and gave its deep
violet head a massage with his tongue.
His moaning was intense, his leg’s thrashing was uncontrollable.
Shark opened the tub of ice-cream and spooned out a
scoop. Carefully he eased it onto the
cock’s tip. ThunderWolf gave no cry of
shock- the heat of his dick was so great that the wad of cream melted and
dragged the mass down the front of his shaft.
The fishy-one dunked another lump of the cold chocolate lust
onto the saber-tooth’s unspent member.
Again it dissolved and fell back but that time it twisted down the
complete length of his pole, forming on his cock a kind-of candy-cane effect. He giggled as he saw the tasty-treat melt
and drip through the lion’s pubic fur where it collected around his balls. He licked the dick clean- up, down, round
and round he inhaled TW’s manhood and the chocolate cream that had now taken on
a distinctly new taste.
“Ahhh!” the Thunderian gasped, swinging his head back- Shark
had shoved the whole bucket of fudge into his rod and the plethora of vibrant
sensations was too great to bare. He
grabbed the container and humped it vigorously. As he felt his hot cum squirm out and up of his heaving balls,
his hands gripped the soggy bucket so hard that the box was literally squeezed
into nonexistence. He let the shards of
rippled waxed cardboard fall to the floor and the great chunk of
partially-melted ice-cream smear his crotch.
“YUM!” The toothy-one exhaled as he poked his lion’s cock
into his mouth and started to suckle the sweet and sour that added a new
dimension to the experience.
The insane-one held onto Shark’s shoulders as he cried: “I’m
going to cum!” hips thrusting all the while.
“Do it to me! Do it to me!” In a passing haze his world seemed to stop-
he could feel hands rubbing up and down his cock and then his own,
earth-shattering eruption. With every
spray of white he felt exhaustion and exhilaration, as though a great weight
were lifted from his crotch. With every
throb deep throb of his cock his seed shot out into the air in quick bursts
that made his whole body tremble.
The birthday boy wet his lips. He had a lot of cleaning up to do, it seemed. But he had little to complain about, it was
such a lovely mess of fur, spent cock, melted chocolate and saber-lion
cream. And half the fun was just
getting there. No, most of the fun was
just getting there.
It was indeed no ordinary Monday- as for the rest of that day
tryst-full, use your imagination!
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