His feet hit the ground with the rhythm of the music in his headphones: rapid, consistent, beating heavily against the hard concrete of the sidewalk. He wasn't able to run like this on the reservation. His grandfather always wanted him to leave the reservation, and educate himself - become a better man. Graduating 4 years ago from Saint Joseph's Technical University majoring in computer science and a minor in English literature made his grandfather proud; proud enough to pass on the bear necklace that rattled against the dark fur of his chest as he listened to another rave song that blared through his headphones. Grandfather died shortly after that. Pancreatic cancer took him at the young age of 94, just shy of his 95th birthday. He was happy to go with the spirits that graced the land, and Alexander knew that grandfather watched over him, keeping him on his path.
The concrete sidewalk ended in front of Alexander's apartment building. His sweat soaked his dark colored fur, through his orange SJTU t-shirt. The railing up the steps welcomed him, as he leaned his arms over it, panting, slowing his breathing, letting the boom boom in his ears run on its way without him. Taking the headphones off his ears, he could hear himself breathing heavily against the summer breeze, and the passing highway behind the building. Alexander also heard a car door close behind him, and the click clack of heels slowly walking closer. The rustle of the shopping bag against her newspaper is what caught his attention, making him turn his head.
Heather.
He had only moved in 3 months ago, and he already knew who she was. He knew she was a manager of a clothing store further inside the city. He knew she lived alone. He knew she lived above him. He knew she had a great set of legs that drove him insane. Remembering when he moved in, she had been to the apartment's swimming pool with a couple friends, he had only caught a glimpse of her as she walked around the corner, and still remembers what the back of her legs looked like. Still panting, not only from his run, but now from the fond memory he has of her, she walked up to the steps.
"Good evening, Miss Heather," he said between labored breaths. The dark brown spaghetti strap of her tank top had lightly fallen off her shoulder, with a newspaper tucked under her arm. He glanced at it shortly, then looked to the ground, further slowing his breathing.
She smirked and nodded to him, reaching her arm around to pull her strap back onto her shoulder, almost dropping her bag of groceries. "Hey, Alex. You do that too often, you know." Alex liked to run, and she would sometimes watch him from her balcony, sitting on a simple white chair, her legs crossed and bare feet resting comfortably beneath her seat.
"What's that?"
She giggled softly. "Running. Every time I see you, you're running somewhere. You need to slow down." Fumbling with her keys, she reached for the door.
With his new breath, he ran around his welcoming railing, quickly taking his keys, and opening the door for her. "Please, I got the door for ya." Stepping back to let her pass, he was finally able to see the detail in her dirty blonde fur, as it hugged her body tightly, as a kiss holds tight against a lover's lips. Her dark green hair lightly flowed with the gentle summer breeze, and her pale blue skirt flowed and swayed against those legs he so fondly remembered.
Setting her keys back in her hand, she smiled at him, then lowered her head with a smirk. She could smell the sweat on him, his muscles tensing as he ran, his large arms swinging back and fourth, his strong thighs and legs pounding and punishing the pavement, working themselves to soreness, only to become firmer and tighter. Never seeing it, she imagined his chest; full, dark, strong, able to wrap her inside, with his arms to her back, the side of her head resting against his bear claw necklace. Blushing, she stepped past him through the door, rustling her groceries as her spaghetti strap fell off her shoulder again.
He watched her walk inside to the elevator at the end of the hall; watching each step she took, her long firm legs slowly swaying beneath the flow of her skirt. Inhaling deeply, he smelled her perfume: daisies. Like a spring meadow before the rain. Closing his eyes, he imagined rolling around in her perfume, rolling in her scent, rolling with her in his arms. Stepping inside the elevator, she quickly turned around. Her long green hair flowing over her shoulders as she pressed the button for the fourth floor. Smiling back to him, he gazed at her with a smirk. "Bye, Alex," she said with a slight giggle. The doors quietly shut.
Alexander stepped inside the coolness of the air conditioned building, sweat still dripping from the fur on his forehead. Running his large hands through his hair, pulling his scent from it, he took the rubber band around his wrist, tying it into a tail. Stepping toward the steps for one last run, something brushed against his running shoe. A newspaper, grey with black print, and an advertisement for whitening toothpaste, accented against his dirt brown shoes. He had been admiring those legs so much, he hadn't noticed that she had dropped it. Picking up the paper, he headed for the stairs, and the fourth floor.
As the doors to the elevator doors closed, she sighed. "Damn that man is fine." Resting her groceries on the railing around the elevator, she shifted her hips. Just the thought of him made her hormones run wild, the smell of his sweat drove her senses to insanity, and his smile just topped everything off. If she were any other woman, that man's furry assed tail would be in her bed quicker than it takes to make toast. Hot toast. Dripping with butter. She shifted her hips again, lightly blushing, as she felt a warmth start to form between her legs.
She continued thinking about him as the bell in the elevator struck the second floor. How she wanted to press her large firm breasts against his bare chest, taking that bear necklace between her teeth, and having him pull at her fur, pulling her closer and into him. His arms, dreaming they held her close to him, forcing her every need to emerge and be met. Licking her lips, she closed her eyes, holding that picture of him, standing in the doorway, holding it open for her, the gentleman he was. Wondering, if she could ever get him behind the door to her apartment, if he'd still be that same gentleman, or take her for a ride and make her sweat like he was.
The elevator rang the third floor, and the doors opened. Flustered, she quickly grabs her groceries, blushing her dirty blonde fur to a deep purplish red. Nobody was there. Rolling her eyes to the back of her head, she flicked her tail around, leaning her back against the wall of the elevator. As her tail brushed against her ankle, she imagined his tail there, close. So close that if his tail were at her ankle, he'd have to be pressed against her, kissing her lips, pushing her against the wall, taking what could be his. She trailed her free hand up her side, gently grazing against the side of her breast., leaning the back of her head against the wall. She licked her lips again. "Mmmm ... right there, Alex," she whispered to herself.
