Work Distractions

Rose had not been able to con­cen­trate all morn­ing.

The day had start­ed or­di­nary enough. She came into the of­fice at a quar­ter past nine, and she smiled am­i­ca­bly at peo­ple on her way to her desk. She chat­ted with her friend from mar­ket­ing while she brewed her morn­ing cof­fee, and she’d even man­aged to put a dent in her un­read emails be­fore she was in­ter­rupt­ed. Nor­mal­ly, an in­ter­rup­tion so sig­nif­i­cant would both­er her enor­mous­ly, but then, she was nor­mal­ly not eas­i­ly in­ter­rupt­ed. Per­haps that’s why it caught her com­plete­ly off guard when she heard a knock on her door, and to her sur­prise, the woman stand­ing in the door­way was her boss: Mi­ran­da Watkins.

Ad­mit­ted­ly, a vis­it from her boss was not it­self un­usu­al. The two of them spoke of­ten, and Rose con­sid­ered them to be on per­fect­ly friend­ly terms. But Mi­ran­da had al­ways tak­en a hands-off ap­proach to man­age­ment, and Rose nev­er felt any need or de­sire to main­tain any­thing more than a pro­fes­sion­al work­ing re­la­tion­ship. Mi­ran­da was the per­son who set her ex­pec­ta­tions and man­aged her work­load, who an­swered her ques­tions and set­tled any dis­putes; she was an im­per­son­al fig­ure, and Rose nev­er mind­ed that. Work was work, and she pre­ferred to keep things strict­ly busi­ness.

So she’d al­ways felt. But this morn­ing, with Mi­ran­da stand­ing in the door­way, for some rea­son it took noth­ing more than a toothy smile to take Rose’s breath away. Some­thing about Mi­ran­da was un­mis­tak­ably dif­fer­ent, she was cer­tain of that, but she hadn’t a clue what it could be. She was so caught up in study­ing every part of her, from the top of her head to the tip of her tail, that she bare­ly even reg­is­tered the ques­tion that Mi­ran­da asked her by the time she re­al­ized she need­ed to re­ply.

“Oh, err—” She’d asked if Rose would take a walk with her lat­er. “Um, of course. Is some­thing the mat­ter?” She was still dis­tract­ed try­ing to fig­ure out what she’d changed.

“Hm?” Mi­ran­da asked, tilt­ing her head. “No, every­thing’s fine!” She seemed to think it was an odd ques­tion, and per­haps it was. The two of them took short walks reg­u­lar­ly; they both found it nicer than hav­ing meet­ings in an of­fice all day. Still, Rose couldn’t shake the feel­ing that some­thing dis­tinct­ly strange was go­ing on.

Un­able to come up with any­thing, she re­signed­ly shook her head. “Well, I must be imag­in­ing things. I’ll talk to you lat­er then?”

Mi­ran­da just nod­ded and walked off to­wards her own of­fice, and Rose stared at her back­side dream­i­ly. When she caught her­self do­ing it, she very near­ly pinched her­self. What to­tal­ly bizarre—and per­haps a lit­tle un­set­tling—feel­ings she was hav­ing! Her love life had not ex­act­ly been great late­ly, it was true, but this was her boss, re­mem­ber? Not to men­tion the fact that she was a woman! Yet here Rose was, sit­ting be­hind her desk, feel­ing sud­den­ly a lit­tle hot and both­ered think­ing about how pret­ty she’d been. Well, no… “pret­ty” wasn’t be­ing hon­est with her­self. The thought of Mi­ran­da was, for some un­ex­plain­able rea­son, sud­den­ly un­be­liev­ably hot.

She tried to push the thought out of her mind and get back to the email she was writ­ing, but every few sen­tences, she was dis­tract­ed by some in­tru­sive thought. Rose had nev­er thought very much about her boss’s nip­ples… and think­ing about them now, she real­ly felt like she shouldn’t! If she could bare­ly re­mem­ber ever hav­ing so much as no­ticed them be­fore, sure­ly there was no rea­son for her to be so pre­oc­cu­pied with them now, right? Yet she was: the im­age of those perky breasts, cov­ered in that light coat of beau­ti­ful­ly soft look­ing fur, made her hair stand on end. What if she could feel it? Sure­ly, it would be won­der­ful to sink her hands into that soft­ness, to rub against their warmth… and qui­et­ly, un­der the con­ceal­ment of her desk, Rose slipped a hand un­der her skirt.

The sen­sa­tion of her own re­mark­able wet­ness snapped Rose out of her bizarre, lust­ful haze. Clear­ly she was much more sex­u­al­ly un­sat­is­fied than she thought! She wiped her hand on her thigh and forced her­self to stay fo­cused, or at least as fo­cused as she could man­age, and she tried not to count every minute that ticked by that brought her clos­er to see­ing Mi­ran­da again.

Eleven o’clock came even­tu­al­ly, and with it came Mi­ran­da, cheery as ever as she peeked back into Rose’s of­fice.

“All ready to go?” she asked, and Rose’s heart flut­tered, much to her own be­wil­der­ment.

“Y-Yeah,” she said, smooth­ing out the folds of her skirt to make sure Mi­ran­da wouldn’t be able to see how damp her panties were. “Lead the way?”

Mi­ran­da did as she was told, and soon they were strolling along the streets in the nice, warm sun. Rose was try­ing not to stare, hav­ing for­got­ten al­most im­me­di­ate­ly that she had sworn not to let her­self ad­mire her boss. How could she? The way her long, blonde hair blowed in the breeze was pic­ture-per­fect beau­ti­ful, and the way her cute, fur­ry ears twitched every so of­ten made Rose blush. Mi­ran­da seemed to no­tice Rose wasn’t quite fol­low­ing the con­ver­sa­tion like she usu­al­ly did and shot her a con­cerned glance.

“Is every­thing al­right? Are you work­ing too hard? I know there’s been a lot hap­pen­ing late­ly; maybe you should take some time off?”

Rose quick­ly shook her head, then stopped her­self, won­der­ing if maybe she had been a lit­tle too quick. “Oh, I… I’m fine,” she said, choos­ing her words care­ful­ly. “Just a lit­tle dis­tract­ed. Trust me! Please con­tin­ue?”

“If you say so,” Mi­ran­da said, though she didn’t seem en­tire­ly con­vinced. “Ex­cuse me just a mo­ment, though, ac­tu­al­ly.” She stepped off the side­walk over to a near­by tree, and she lift­ed her leg and leaned against its trunk as she non­cha­lant­ly start­ed to pee. The act didn’t shock Rose—if any­thing it seemed en­tire­ly nat­ur­al—but she did find it odd­ly al­lur­ing, for some strange rea­son. She felt like she should look away, but she didn’t real­ly want to… and some­how, she didn’t think Mi­ran­da mind­ed one bit. Her boss calm­ly fin­ished do­ing her busi­ness, licked her fur in a cou­ple places, and re­turned to Rose’s side with a smile.

The two of them talked shop for the re­main­der of the hour, and Rose even­tu­al­ly man­aged to find her fo­cus, even if she felt her­self get­ting pro­gres­sive­ly wet­ter and wet­ter through­out their con­ver­sa­tion. By the time they had found their way back to the of­fice, her panties were so soaked that it was get­ting ac­tive­ly un­com­fort­able, and she was ac­tu­al­ly glad to be able to step back into her of­fice. It was em­bar­rass­ing, but it just couldn’t be helped: she need­ed to take them off. The feel­ing of the fab­ric stuck to her skin from her own sticky juices was dri­ving her crazy, and as soon as she was cer­tain she was out of view, she slipped them off and qui­et­ly tucked them into her purse. She hoped they wouldn’t make her purse smell too much like sex, but even if they did, she’d just have to deal with it: tak­ing them off was an im­me­di­ate re­lief.

Rose was aw­ful­ly self-con­scious of her bot­tom­less­ness as she walked from her of­fice to the kitchen to get her lunch out of the fridge, but she kept telling her­self that her skirt was well past her knees, and there was no chance any­one could see any­thing. In that light, it was ac­tu­al­ly a lit­tle thrilling: to think that she was walk­ing around com­plete­ly bot­tom­less and no­body even knew or cared! It made her won­der what it must feel to go naked all the time like Mi­ran­da. She knew it was dif­fer­ent for her, of course, be­ing a fox rather than a hu­man, but it was still pleas­ant to think about, even if the thought of her­self ac­tu­al­ly walk­ing about naked was ab­surd.

She re­heat­ed her food and ate qui­et­ly, day­dream­ing about strange things, not even notic­ing the fact that she was be­gin­ning to form a damp spot on her skirt, too. She also didn’t pay any at­ten­tion to the way she found her­self eat­ing more and more quick­ly, prac­ti­cal­ly shov­el­ing the food into her mouth. She only paused when her ears twitched slight­ly as she heard some­one com­ing from around the cor­ner, which she thought was a lit­tle lucky—nor­mal­ly the am­bi­ent hum of the of­fice com­put­ers and kitchen ap­pli­ances would have been too loud for her to have no­ticed be­fore it was too late. She straight­ened her back and licked the sauce from her lips, and she smiled in­no­cent­ly at her un­sus­pect­ing cowork­er from afar. Her stom­ach growled slight­ly when he opened the fridge, and she could smell the con­tents of the con­tain­er he pulled out: it was un­mis­tak­ably rich, heavy, and meaty, which sound­ed ab­solute­ly won­der­ful to her right now, even af­ter eat­ing most of a full meal. She’d have to get some bar­be­cue af­ter work or some­thing.

In the mean­time, she pol­ished off her left­over pas­ta and qui­et­ly re­turned to her of­fice. At least she wasn’t so hun­gry any longer, but some­how that seemed to have only made her hornier. Her nip­ples were un­char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly ten­der un­der her bra, and no mat­ter how she ad­just­ed it, it didn’t seem to sit with­out brush­ing up against them in a dis­tract­ing­ly plea­sur­able way. She poked and prod­ded at the post on the com­pa­ny blog she’d been tasked with writ­ing, but the only cre­ative juices that were flow­ing were en­tire­ly of the wrong sort. She glanced out the small win­dow she was lucky enough to have in her of­fice, and she wished she could be out there for the rest of that af­ter­noon. She could al­most smell the grass, and how won­der­ful it would be to just curl up in a nice, sun­ny spot in the park and take a qui­et nap. Al­though maybe she would have to go home first so she could mas­tur­bate.

She thought about that for a mo­ment. She was in­cred­i­bly aroused, and sure­ly it would help her con­cen­trate if only she could re­lieve her­self. But no—she could hard­ly just go and fin­ger her­self on work hours! What if some­one walked in while she was do­ing it? Un­less… un­less she did it in the bath­room. She could be qui­et if she need­ed to be, years of mas­tur­bat­ing as a teenag­er had taught her that, and the idea was just ir­re­sistibly pleas­ant sound­ing. Qui­et­ly, and some­what shame­ful­ly, Rose stood up and stepped out into the hall, slipped into the ladies’ room, and locked her­self in the stall fur­thest from the door.

No­body else seemed to be in the bath­room, but she still took care as she ner­vous­ly slipped out of her skirt. She bit her lip when she re­al­ized just how wet she was down there, dried juices cov­er­ing the in­side of both her thighs. She lift­ed her shirt over her head and took off her bra, and with a soft sigh of re­lief, she leaned back and slipped a hand in­side her aching slit. She’d need­ed this, bad­ly. She rubbed her breasts with her left hand and mas­saged her clit with her right, and soon, her juices were flow­ing even more freely.

With her in­hi­bi­tions low­ered, Rose’s mind be­gan to wan­der once more to thoughts of her boss. She re­mem­bered the way she’d felt as she’d watched her pee ear­li­er… how much she’d want­ed to just walk up be­hind her and ca­ress her soft, curvy body. Rose’s cheeks were red from em­bar­rass­ment, but she was so turned on, and the fan­ta­sy was so good. She rubbed her­self hard­er, not even notic­ing the way the thin hairs all over her body start­ed to thick­en and dark­en, nor how her fin­ger­nails length­ened and sub­tly sharp­ened. She didn’t no­tice her sharp fangs against her lip, nor the strange, soft feel­ing brush­ing against her back. All she felt was plea­sure, in­tense plea­sure, so lost in de­sire and imag­i­na­tion… in her fan­ta­sy, she was no longer just fuck­ing Mi­ran­da, she was Mi­ran­da, strong and beau­ti­ful and sexy, tail raised high, so close to cum­ming…!

When she heard the bath­room door creak open, she very near­ly fell off the toi­let in pan­icked sur­prise. Had she been mak­ing too much noise? She im­me­di­ate­ly stopped touch­ing her­self and froze in place, lis­ten­ing to every soft foot­fall on the hard bath­room floor.

Rose be­gan to re­al­ize she could sense who had just en­tered the bath­room. Per­haps she was imag­in­ing things, but she swore she could smell her. There was a very faint sniff­ing noise, and she re­al­ized to her hor­ror that she could smell Rose right back! How stu­pid she had been: the whole bath­room smelled of sex. All her sex­u­al en­er­gy im­me­di­ate­ly evap­o­rat­ed, re­placed by fear. Should she scram­ble to put her clothes back on? Maybe her boss wouldn’t know it was her, and she wouldn’t be fired af­ter all? She bare­ly dared to breathe as she lis­tened to Mi­ran­da get clos­er and clos­er.

One by one, she passed stall af­ter stall. Rose des­per­ate­ly hoped her padded foot­falls would stop, and she turn into one of them… but then, why would she? She knew quite well Mi­ran­da had no need to use a toi­let. Soon she was just out­side her stall, sniff­ing again briefly… then press­ing a hand against the door and nudg­ing it slight­ly.

To Rose’s com­plete hor­ror, the lock slipped use­less­ly aside, and the door swung open with­out re­sis­tance. In her hasti­ness, she must not have locked it prop­er­ly, and now she found her­self face to face with the woman she’d been fan­ta­siz­ing about, re­veal­ing that she was en­tire­ly naked. To her con­fu­sion, how­ev­er, Mi­ran­da didn’t look up­set. In fact, she seemed rat­ter pleased with her­self.

“I thought I smelled your scent,” she mur­mured, ad­mir­ing Rose’s naked body. “It just smelled… dif­fer­ent. Now I see why. Mmh.”

Rose didn’t un­der­stand, and her con­fu­sion was plain upon her face. She wasn’t sure if she was be­ing chas­tised or teased. She didn’t un­der­stand what Mi­ran­da meant, or why she wasn’t up­set, but she was also just so dis­tract­ing­ly horny. She’d been so close, and now Mi­ran­da was ac­tu­al­ly here…!

The fox woman took a few steps to­ward her. Calm­ly, she dropped to her knees. Rose opened her mouth to say some­thing; Mi­ran­da’s opened hers, too. Nei­ther spoke. In­stead, Mi­ran­da pressed her muz­zle be­tween Rose’s thighs and gave her lips a long, wet kiss… with plen­ty of tongue.

Rose just gasped. She couldn’t help her­self. The woman she’d been fan­ta­siz­ing about all day was run­ning her tongue over her clit, tast­ing her pussy, look­ing up at her from the cor­ners of her eyes while she word­less­ly ate her em­ploy­ee out. Rose couldn’t take much more than a minute of it be­fore she felt it hap­pen­ing: it start­ed crash­ing upon her be­fore she could even try to stop it, and though it took its sweet time to ful­ly ar­rive, there was no re­sist­ing it now. Rose came, and she came hard, mewl­ing in a strange­ly an­i­mal way as she cli­maxed, clench­ing her thighs around Mi­ran­da’s head. She rubbed both her breasts, and they felt strange­ly soft to the touch, but she couldn’t bring her­self to even look down, she was so over­whelmed by the in­ten­si­ty of it all.

Her or­gasm stretched on, en­velop­ing her in plea­sure, then lap­ping at her with lit­tle af­ter­shocks, but even­tu­al­ly it did be­gin to sub­side, and Mi­ran­da pulled away. She smiled at Rose warm­ly and stood up slight­ly, just enough to reach out and stroke her cheek. “You’re beau­ti­ful,” she whis­pered, and Rose just whim­pered, still seeped in her own af­ter­glow. “You’ve al­ways been beau­ti­ful, but now… well, good­ness. I couldn’t help my­self.”

Rose still didn’t un­der­stand what Mi­ran­da meant, but she fi­nal­ly glanced down at her­self, and her eyes went car­toon­ish­ly wide at the sight. Her whole front was cov­ered in fur. Soft, white fur, just like Mi­ran­da’s. She lift­ed a hand in front of her face, and she stared in awe as she turned it back and forth, study­ing the claws she now bore.

“See what I mean?” Mi­ran­da laughed. She grabbed hold of one of Rose’s hands and pulled her to her feet, then pressed their bod­ies to­geth­er and kissed her lov­ing­ly on the lips—the up­per pair this time. Rose sud­den­ly be­came keen­ly aware of her own tail, and the re­al­iza­tion filled her with a wave of warmth.

“I knew some­thing was wrong ear­li­er,” Mi­ran­da said, scratch­ing Rose gen­tly be­hind her ears. Rose, for her part, prompt­ly be­gan to purr, and re­al­iz­ing she was do­ing that only made her purr loud­er. “I was just wrong about what! You could have told me, you know.~”

“No I couldn’t have,” Rose said, voice a lit­tle shaky. “How could I have told you the truth?”

“That you want­ed to be like me?”

Rose swal­lowed. “Well… yes. But that wasn’t what I was think­ing of.”

Mi­ran­da gig­gled. “I smelled how wet you were, you know. Your whole of­fice smelled of it when I came by a sec­ond time.”

Rose blushed, and the col­or man­aged to show even through her fur. “You could have told me!” she said, feign­ing in­dig­na­tion.

“I knew you were turned on,” Mi­ran­da grinned. “I just wasn’t sure why. And why would I em­bar­rass one of my best em­ploy­ees like that?”

Rose nuz­zled against Mi­ran­da’s cheek, still feel­ing aw­ful­ly emo­tion­al­ly over­whelmed by every­thing that had just hap­pened, and still a lit­tle aroused for that mat­ter. “I guess it had to be this way,” Rose mur­mured. “But, um… not to in­ter­rupt the mo­ment, but do you think we could go some­place oth­er than the women’s re­stroom?”

Mi­ran­da gig­gled. “What, you’re telling me you came in here even though you didn’t ac­tu­al­ly have to pee? Or did you do that be­fore the mas­tur­bat­ing?”

Rose turned some­how red­der. “N-No, I… I do have to pee. Pret­ty bad­ly, ac­tu­al­ly.”

Mi­ran­da raised an eye­brow, and she snick­ered slight­ly, but she also un­der­stood. “You know what? Let’s take an­oth­er walk.”

Mi­ran­da clasped Rose’s hand, and to­geth­er they left the bath­room be­hind. It was only when they had stepped out­side and Rose felt the sun­shine on her fur for the first time that she re­al­ized: in the heat of the mo­ment, she had for­got­ten to grab her clothes piled in the cor­ner of the stall.

She nev­er went back for them. She had no use for them any­more.