Menage a trois with a cougar
by Longtail RingsCat
Menage a trois with a cougarAfter my father died, I used some of my inheritance to buy a summer cottage in southern Idaho. I wanted to get out of the city for a while and get away from a social circle of friends and lovers that I was getting awfully tired of. The cottage was over thirty miles from Elk River, the nearest town, and I had no neighbors within five miles. The previous owner had fenced an area around the cottage to keep animals out, and the cottage was located several thousand feet from the road. Feeling safe and with nobody to bother me, I took to skinny-dipping in a pool in the stream that ran beside the cottage.
One afternoon, having finished my swim, I sat down on a towel between the stream bank and the cottage and combed my hair. The water had been cold and the breeze was cool on my body, so I moved to a sunny spot, spread out the bath towel and lay down on it, arms and legs spread to catch the sun. I had heard a radio report the day before about a pet cougar that had escaped, but I wasn't worried. The cat's owner lived nearly fifteen miles away, and I knew that escaped wild cats rarely strayed far from where they lived. I watched the tree leaves rustling against the sky for a while, then I closed my eyes and half-dosed, letting my mind wander. : Sudden Pleasures Suddenly, a warm breath spread over my whole genital area, and a wet, rough tongue lashed upward between my thighs and across my labia. This was followed by another lick and yet another. The sensations were intense, making waves of arousal radiate from my crotch. I thought for a moment that I was dreaming and had only imagined the feel of that impossible tongue on my genitals, but I knew that I was awake, I had only closed my eyes. Who could it be? I was alone, I would have heard anyone coming in my gate, and I would have heard the steps of anyone approaching me. I opened my eyes to see who was licking me. I froze.
It was a mountain lion!
The cougar stood between my spread legs, its head lowered to lick at my thighs and crotch with its strong, rough tongue. I heard it purring, a low-pitched rumble coming from deep within its chest. I tried to close my thighs, but the cougar looked up at me with amber eyes and growled once, a warning. I was as helpless as I was naked. The cat lowered its massive head back down to my crotch and began to lick at the narrow furrow between my thighs. As it did, I saw that a leather collar encircled the cat's neck and a small metal plaque was attached to the broad leather band. While the cougar nuzzled and licked my crotch, an arousal that I could not control grew within me to challenge my fear. I lifted up on my elbows and struggled to read an upside- down name stamped on the plaque. Finally, I puzzled it out, the name was Charlie. I remembered that that was the name of the cat in the report on the radio. : Charlie? "Charlie?" I said softly, "Charlie? Is that your name?" The cougar lifted his head and looked at me differently; his name had been spoken. He left my thighs and stepped over me until his head was inches from my face. He opened his mouth and his long, rough tongue came out from between gleaming white fangs and licked my face. "That's your name? Isn't it? Charlie?"
His answer was a louder purr, a rumbling sound deep in his throat. I glanced downward, looked down the length of his belly between his legs, and saw that he was indeed a male. He was big. His body was longer and possibly heavier than a large man's. He backed away until his head was over the patch of curly brown hair at the juncture of my thighs. He lowered his head to my genitals and I clamped my legs tightly together. He licked at me again, but he could not wedge his tongue down between my tightly pressed thighs. He growled again, louder this time, then stuck his nose under one of my knees and lifted my leg up to expose my vaginal lips. He crouched there with his warm, furry head pressed between my legs, and his thick, rough, wet tongue lashed the full length of my crotch. I spread my legs and raised my knees as sexual arousal surged within me, far beyond my ability to control it. I spasmed, jerking convulsively as his tongue pressed between my labia and licked roughly against my clitoris.
Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, he raised his head and stepped across me to face me from the side. He pressed his cold nose under the small of my back and lifted me, easily rolling me onto my stomach. Then he moved back behind me and lowered his head to my buttocks, licking me a few more times, stimulating me further. He nuzzled his head down under my crotch between my pelvis and the towel. Next, he raised his head, effortlessly lifting me up in the air until I had to pull my legs under me for support. He released me and I sagged into a huddled crouch before him. Dreading and anticipating what I knew was going to happen next, I waited, crouching low on my forearms, knees and toes. He licked at me again as soon as I was in position, and the incredibly intense sensations drove all thoughts from my mind except the growing need for sexual release.
I thought I was going to come, but he stopped licking me and quickly moved forward, rubbing against my side with his rough, shaggy fur. With one quick motion, he lifted one foreleg and stepped over me to stand with his forepaws on either side of my torso as though I were a female mountain lion. I felt the long, soft fur of his belly brush against my back, felt his hot breath inches from my neck. I heard the rumbling purr coming from deep within his chest and smelled the musky scent of his arousal. He moved his rear feet forwards until they touched my calves and the soft fur on the inner sides of his legs rubbed against my thighs, then he quickly lowered his hindquarters until the fur covering the powerful, bunched muscles of his haunches brushed against my buttocks.
He thrust towards me, and I felt the hard, moist tip of his penis touch one buttock and slide along it until it pressed against my anus. I didn't want that! I reached between my legs with one arm and, as revulsion and disgust fought with my desire, I grasped the end of his penis, pulling it downwards. As I did so, he thrust it between my fingers until its full length was in my hand and the short, soft, furry sheath around it's base pressed against my fingers. He held still, as if he was not sure what to do, and for a few seconds of growing wonder, I gently felt his penis, so like and so unlike a man's. It was harder than a man's, and it felt as though the head and part of the shaft were supported by a slender bone.
His penis was slightly thinner than a man's and shorter, but its shaft continued to broaden toward its base at the opening of the sheath. Its tip was longer than a man's, more sharply pointed, and harder. Behind the tip, the head of his penis had many short, stiff, backwards-pointing bristle-like spines on its sides and back, much like the ones on his tongue. The rest of the shaft of his penis was covered with slick, smooth skin. He pulled back a couple inches then thrust his penis between my fingers again, and I felt it pulse and jerk, leaving moisture where it's tip pressed against my wrist. My heart was beating so hard there was a roaring in my ears, and I was ready to come from anticipation. I was terrified, but I was totally ready for him.
I pushed backwards on his penis and against the rock-hard muscles of his belly, and he withdrew, backing up until I had positioned the tip of his penis between my labia. As I released his penis and got my arm out from under me, he thrust its head into the entrance of my vagina and then pulled back slightly. I felt the spines pull against my soft, tender tissues, but they didn't hurt, they only stimulated me more than a man's smooth- skinned penis ever had. He hesitated for a moment, then with one massive thrust, he rammed his penis deep into my vagina until the furred sheath brushed against my vaginal lips, his shaggy haunches pressed against my buttocks, and his velvet-coated balls slapped against my pubic mound.
He thrust so hard I almost lost my balance, but I pushed back against him and came immediately, feeling his hot, hard penis slide deep within me.
I expected him to continue thrusting like a man, but he held nearly still while his quivering thigh muscles pressed against my buttocks and his penis jumped and twitched within me with each little movement that we made. He pulled back slightly and then pressed tighter against me, trembling and quivering. He growled deep in his throat, and I felt the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck. He shifted slightly, and as his penis shifted within me it jumped in response and his thigh muscles flexed against my buttocks. A deeper growl was followed by the sensation of the points of four sharp teeth pressing against my neck. I lifted my head high in a futile effort to protect my neck, but he didn't bite down, he only mouthed my neck for a few eternal seconds. As he did this, he pulled his penis back an inch or two, and I felt the spines pulling against the tissues deep within my vagina. He growled louder, tightened his grip on my neck, clamped his haunches tightly against me, and I felt his penis pulse within me with the rhythmic surges of his ejaculation, making me come again despite my fear. Then his growl turned into a screaming roar as he released my neck and flung himself backwards off of me. There was one brief stab of pain from the spines as his penis pulled out of me, then I was free.
I nearly collapsed, but I quickly turned around to face him, afraid he might attack me. He was standing about ten feet away from me, watching me with what looked like a combination of caution and curiosity. After a few seconds, he looked away from me, sat down, raised one hind leg, and calmly began to lick his pink penis as it slowly shrank and withdrew. I sat there, just watching him and shaking, my mind numb from what had happened. If I had been thinking, I would have jumped up, run into my cottage, and called the police. Instead, I just sat there until he finished grooming and looked up at me. He got up and, purring again, walked over and rubbed his head and shoulders against me. After a moment, I reached out and put my hand on his head. He closed his eyes and, purring louder, rubbed his head and ears against my hand while I petted and stroked his head and neck.
After a few minutes, feeling rather brave, I pulled on his collar to get a better look at his name tag, but all it said was `Charlie'. Then I saw that he had a second tag on the other side of the collar. While he purred and tried to rub my hand, I pulled the collar around to read that tag.
It read "Owner: Michael McIntyre" and gave an address and phone number. Charlie continued to purr, and feeling even braver, I said, "Charlie, do you want to go home?" He looked at me and just purred. I stood up and said "Come on Charlie, we're going to get you home." He rubbed against my legs and followed me as I walked back to the cottage. He followed me into the kitchen without hesitating at the door and sat down by my feet as I dressed. He didn't move as I walked over to the phone and dialed, except to lazily flick the end of his tail and turn his head to watch.
The phone was answered on the second ring: "Hello, Mike McIntyre here."
"Hello, my name's Rita Davidson. I live about fifteen miles from you in the direction of Elk River. I understand you're missing a cougar named Charlie."
"My god, yes! Have you seen him?"
"He's lying six feet across my kitchen from me and purring."
"Oh my god! He hasn't hurt you or anything?"
"No, I guess not." I realized my neck was slightly sore where he had gripped me. "He scared the hell out of me when he first showed up but he's been perfectly friendly."
"Thank god! I'll be right over to pick him up. Where'd you say you live?"
I gave him instructions on how to reach my cottage, plus my phone number in case he needed it. I told him he'd have to open my gate, but it wasn't locked, then asked, "Anything I need to know about Charlie while I wait for you?"
He hesitated for a few seconds, then said: "Charlie's always real friendly, and I'm sure he'd never intentionally hurt anyone, but he can sometimes get a bit too enthusiastic when someone gives him too much attention. You have to know how to handle him. Just keep cool and I'll be right over."
I hung up, sat down by the phone, and watched Charlie groom himself while I waited. I was no longer terrified, unable to think. Now, I felt as though I could think clearly, but I was numb inside. My mind, like a camera, kept playing back frames from what had happened: the shock of seeing a cougar standing over my naked body. . . my feeling of total helplessness as the cat maneuvered me into position for mating. . . my revulsion as I grasped an animal's penis. . . my mortal terror as his fangs closed on my defenseless neck.
Fifteen minutes later given the condition of the road, he must have driven like a maniac I heard a beep at my gate, which I'd asked him to do, then a truck coming up my drive. Charlie got up and walked to the door, obviously excited. As his owner got out of his truck, Charlie bounded over, stood on his hind legs, put his paws on the man's shoulders so hard they both fell down, and started vigorously licking his victim's face.
I couldn't help myself; I started laughing and then found I couldn't stop. I sat down on the step in front of the door, and after a few seconds my laughter turned into uncontrolled sobbing.
"Hey, are you all right?" I felt McIntyre's hand on my shoulder. I pulled away and sobbed harder. "Hey, Charlie didn't hurt you, did he?" He put his hand on my shoulder again, then turned my face up to look at him. I pulled away from his hands, looked away from him, still crying. "Hey, don't cry, it's all right." Then he said "What the. . ." and I felt his hands brush my hair aside and gently tilt my head to look at the sides of my neck where I had four tender spots. "Oh my god! What happened? What did Charlie do to you?"
I looked up in his face. He looked terribly concerned and a bit scared. It all came out in a rush. "He raped me! Your cat raped me! I was sunbathing behind my cottage and I didn't know he was there until he started licking me. He knew exactly what he was doing and I couldn't stop him. He turned me over and he raped me."
McIntyre looked like he'd been clubbed. He sat down on the step beside me and all he could say was "Oh my god!" Charlie, who'd been watching us, sat down by the step and put his head in McIntyre's lap, purring loudly. His owner looked down at the cougar and shook his head, said "Charlie, you've been a bad cat." Charlie kept purring. He shook his head again, then grasped Charlie's collar and stood up, saying "Charlie, we've got to get you home." Charlie happily followed him to the truck and jumped into the covered back of the truck without any urging. His owner closed and latched the back of the truck and turned back to me. He still looked concerned and now he looked really scared. "Do you want me to call a doctor?
Do you want to call the police? I won't stop you, I'll call them if you want. I've got to call the police, I've got to tell them I've got Charlie back again and they can call the search off."
I'd stopped crying and I was starting to think again. If I told the police what had happened, they'd probably take the cougar and shoot him, and I didn't think I wanted that. Charlie hadn't really hurt me except for the bruises on my neck, and they'd probably shoot him for that. I looked at McIntyre again. He looked even more scared but he still looked terribly concerned about me. "I'll have to think about the doctor," I said.
"Call the police and tell them you've got Charlie back and that everything's ok."
He looked incredibly relieved. "Where's the phone?" he asked. I showed him and then went to look at my neck in the bathroom mirror while he called. There were two small bruises on each side where Charlie's fangs had held me, but the skin hadn't been broken and the bruises were only slightly sore. I closed the door, dropped my pants, sat down on the throne, and bent over to check my crotch. The skin of my thighs and crotch were pink and slightly sore from being licked by the cat's sandpaper-rough tongue, but that was all. I spread my labia apart with my fingers and looked closer. A small smear of the cougar's semen was visible between my vaginal lips, but there was no blood, nor any visible injury.
As I leaned back with relief, I realized with surprise that my vagina wasn't sore, rather it felt good. I hadn't had any sex for several weeks, and I'd taken little pleasure from the sex I'd been having for many months before that. With a sense of shock, I realized that the cougar's hard penis had felt good within me; his furred haunches had felt good as they pressed trembling against my buttocks and thighs. My vagina tightened with remembered pleasure, and I felt distinctly aroused as I remembered what sex with the cougar had felt like. Until he had grabbed my neck, it had felt incredibly scary but good, like going over the top of the first hill of a big roller coaster while sitting in the last car on the train.
Charlie had made me come twice, and I didn't think I had had an orgasm any of the last dozen or so times I'd had sex with my lovers back in the city. No, Charlie had scared the hell out of me, but he hadn't really hurt me, and I didn't need to see a doctor.
I heard McIntyre finish talking on the phone and hang up. I wiped my crotch with a tissue, flushed the throne, quickly pulled my pants up, and opened the door. He came over to me, still looking concerned. He asked again, "Are you all right? Do you want to see a doctor?"
"No, I'll be all right, I guess. Charlie really didn't hurt me though he scared the hell out of me. I'll be all right." I thought for a moment and continued. "Anyway, if we told a doctor, he'd have to tell the police. They'd probably have Charlie shot, and I'd never live down the scandal. I'd probably have to sell this cottage and I really like this place. I'll be all right. Come on, you've got to get Charlie home. You want me to come with you?"
He looked at me with a trace of surprise, then he answered. "Sure, come along if you want. Hey, are you all alone here? You've been through quite an experience today. Do you want to be all alone after what you've been through? I can bring you back whenever you want."
He had a point there. I'd probably get the shakes or start crying again if I started thinking about what had happened without having someone around to keep me distracted. I replied, "I'll come with you. I don't know if I'll want to stay the night, but I might. I'll get a few things. I still can't believe this happened to me."
After I put a few things in my purse and locked the cottage, we went out to McIntyre's truck. He said hello to Charlie, who was patiently lying in the back, then held the door for me while I got in. He was quiet while we drove out to my gate. I got out and locked it, and we drove off to his place. As he drove, I looked at him, liking what I saw. He was about thirty-five, slender but strong-looking, red-haired, with a few freckles. He was wearing clean, patched jeans and a faded flannel shirt. He glanced at me, saw I was looking at him, and quickly turned back to the road. He was blushing. A few minutes later, he said, "You don't have to tell me any more about what happened if you don't want to, but I probably ought to know a little more. I sure don't want anything like this to happen again. I'd noticed Charlie was very friendly with some women when people visited us, but I'd never thought it was anything sexual. I'd like to know if there was anything that set him off." He was blushing beet red. I liked that.
"I'd gone skinny-dipping in the creek and was lying on my towel half-asleep in the sun when Charlie showed up. First I knew he was there was when he started licking me and I opened my eyes and saw him. I guess I thought I was dreaming. By the time I knew I wasn't, I was too scared to do anything." I felt my vagina tighten again with the memory; I didn't add that I was becoming too aroused by then to do anything. "He licked me for a while, then rolled me over, licked me some more, nosed me into position; then he mounted me. God, I still can't believe it happened." McIntyre glanced at me, saw I was watching him, quickly turned away. He couldn't blush any redder; if he could, he would have. "Charlie was quite a gentleman, I guess. He purred the whole time, until he grabbed my neck; then he growled." McIntyre turned to stare at me, then turned back to the road. I've never seen anyone look so embarrassed in my life.
He didn't reply. He probably couldn't think of anything to say. Our silence ended a few minutes later when we turned in the driveway of his ranch. We parked beside a fenced yard behind his house and got out of the truck. He turned to me and said, "We haven't even been properly been introduced, I'm Mike McIntyre; just call me Mike. You told me, but I can't even remember your name."
"I'm Rita, Rita Davidson. You can call me Rita. Let's get Charlie back in his pen."
Mike unlatched the back of the truck, opened it, and Charlie jumped out and stretched. "Come on Charlie, you've gotten into enough trouble," said Mike, leading the cougar through a tall gate into the yard and then a wire-mesh door into a completely enclosed pen. "Let me show you how he escaped," he said, leading me around through the gate. The fenced yard was about an acre across. A twelve-foot high chain link fence topped by electrified barbed wire surrounded it. There were quite a few trees in the yard, but none were near the fence. Near the enclosed pen, however, a tree just outside the yard had fallen on the fence and collapsed it. "We had a severe thunder storm the night before last," Mike said. "Lightning hit this tree and split it so the biggest part of it fell on Charlie's fence. The thunder was so loud it sounded like we'd been hit by a bomb.
When the rain slacked off about fifteen minutes later and I looked around to see where the lightning had hit, I found the tree down and Charlie gone. He was probably totally freaked out. I looked half the night and all morning for him, but he didn't show up. Then I called the cops. They couldn't do anything much except put out an alert and keep an eye out for him. I was afraid they'd shoot first if they found him, then call me. I was about to call Tom Jacobs to bring out his dogs and look for Charlie, but you called first."
"Who's we?" I asked. "Anybody else live here? And who's Tom Jacobs?"
"We's me and Charlie. I was married until last spring, but Donna suddenly asked for a divorce. She said it was too lonely out here and she couldn't stand it anymore. She said she couldn't stand being around 'that damn cat' anymore, either. I was kind of surprised, but we weren't getting along too well, and I didn't contest it. She settled for five thousand dollars and the car. No kids, so no problem over that, thank god."
He led me back to the cougar's enclosed pen. I could see that Charlie couldn't get out of that except either through the door to the fenced yard, or a door into the back of the ranch house, part of which formed the end of one wall of the pen. Charlie was waiting in the pen next to an old refrigerator that stood against the back wall of the house, outside but next to the pen. Mike said, "Dinner-time Charlie. You must be pretty hungry." He opened the fridge, took out some large chunks of beef, and tossed them to the cougar through a complicated hatch in the side of the pen. Charlie promptly started eating; to my surprise, he purred loudly as he ate.
"Come on inside," Mike said. "I'll get you something to eat. You want a beer or some wine? I don't have anything fancy, but you could probably use something to help relax after what you've been through."
I followed him into a clean but cluttered house, the kitchen was plain but clean, except for a mess of dishes in the sink. Mike glanced at them, said "Excuse the mess, I've been too busy looking for Charlie to bother with dishes."
"I wouldn't have bothered with them either," I said. "Let's see what you've got to drink." I selected a Coors from a small selection of beer in the kitchen fridge, and Mike grabbed one also. We went into the living room and sat down. Mike was blushing again. He probably couldn't think of anything safe to say to me.
He quickly drank half of his beer, then held it while I slowly drank about a third of mine. He took another swig and put the can back down, looked at me, then looked down at the floor. "I can't possibly say how sorry I am that this happened," he said. "I knew Charlie was potentially dangerous, any large wild cat is, but he'd never shown any real aggression toward me, Donna, or any visitors. I thought I'd done a good job of keeping him safe in his pen and yard, but it's still my responsibility that he got loose. I'll pay you any reasonable damages with no argument, but I don't have a lot of savings." He looked up at me. He was still blushing slightly but he looked scared again. I could probably sue him for his life's savings and his ranch, if I wanted to.
I took another sip of my beer and said, "It really isn't your fault Charlie got loose, though the courts probably wouldn't see it that way. That pen and yard look well designed and well built. You couldn't expect that tree to fall unless it was old and dying. It didn't look like that to me. Call it an 'Act of God'." I took another sip. I didn't drink beer much, but I was enjoying this one as I was finally starting to relax. "Tell you what. You pay any medical expenses, if I have any, and I'll settle for that. I think I'll be all right. My neck's a little sore and I feel a bit like I'd been sand-papered between my legs, but I'm really not hurt. If I need a psychiatrist because of nightmares or something, you'd better pay for that."
He was blushing again, but he looked relieved. "Sure," he said, "I hadn't thought of that. I'll pay anything reasonable."
I was half enjoying this, and I thought I'd tease him a little. I drank the rest of my beer and said, "One other thing, if I have kittens, you'll have to pay full cub-support." He stared at me; I think he thought I was serious. I grinned and said, "I'm just pulling your leg. I know that can't happen. What's for dinner."
He smiled back at me, but it was only half-hearted. "I'm kinda low on groceries as I was going to shop yesterday. If you don't like steak and potatoes, I've got some frozen dinners. I can't exactly recommend them. I keep them for emergencies only."
"The emergency's over. Let's have some steak."
We only talked kitchen-talk while he cooked dinner. I helped by cleaning up the mess of dishes in the sink. It really did look like it was only a two-days accumulation. He was keeping bachelor house but he was no slob. I decided I liked this Mike McIntyre. I'd had my fill of affected phonys. That's one reason I'd gotten out of the city. Mike wasn't a phony. He seemed a bit easy to embarrass, but under the situation, that was understandable. The steak was first rate. We each drank another beer during our dinner, washed the dishes together, and started back towards the living room. I had a bit of a buzz from the two beers, but considering that I'd been raped by a mountain lion a couple of hours earlier, I felt pretty good.
Mike stopped, and said "I almost forgot that Charlie's back. I ought to say hello to him. He's probably missed me almost as much as I missed him." He looked at me, then asked "Would you like to say hello to him? You weren't exactly properly introduced." I thought he was blushing again.
"Maybe, as long as he behaves himself." I said. "Where, in his pen?"
"Yes, he'll probably be pretty rambunctious at first. I only let him in the house when he's calmed down."
"I'll watch at first. Then I'll decide." We walked down a short hall to what had probably been a small bedroom. It had a heavy wood door with a small glass window set in it at eye-level. A few pieces of sturdy, old furniture were the only furnishings. however, a rug-covered platform was attached to the wall about three feet off the floor. Its outer corners were supported by chains that were bolted to the wall six feet above the platform. This was obviously the cat's room. Another strong door, with a mesh-reinforced window, led outside into Charlie's pen, a securable cat-door to the pen was beside it. A bigger window, also mesh-reinforced, looked out into the pen.
"Charlie's always behaved himself until now. I built this setup when he was a half-grown cub, but I've never really needed it for controlling him," Mike said. "You can stay behind the other door while I go into the pen."
"I'll watch from here," I said. Charlie was lying on a bench on the other side of the pen. He had looked up when we entered his room, then he got up and walked toward the door. Mike opened the outer door and slipped through, latching it behind him. Charlie bounded toward him, rose on his hind legs, and nearly knocked Mike over again. Mike hugged the big cat while Charlie rubbed his head against Mike's, then Mike grabbed the cat's head and vigorously rubbed him behind the ears and kneaded the fur on his neck. After a half minute, Charlie dropped down, and play-tackled Mike's leg. Mike grabbed the cat and they tussled, with Mike ending up on top of the cat rubbing his furry belly. Finally, Mike sat on the bench on the other side of the pen while Charlie put his head in Mike's lap and purred while Mike rubbed and kneaded the cat's head and neck.
After at least five minutes, Mike got up and walked over to the door with Charlie walking behind him. I held the door partly open, and he asked "Well?"
My heart was beating hard, but I shrugged and said "Sure, in here?" I held the door open and Mike walked through followed by the cougar.
Mike stopped facing me, with the cat beside him. He looked embarrassed again, but grinned and said, "Charlie, this is Rita Davidson. Rita, this is Charlie the cougar."
I grinned ruefully, and said "We've already met." I held out my hand to the cat. Charlie sniffed my hand, then licked it with his sandpaper tongue. My heart was still beating hard, and I was surprised to realize that I was being aroused again.
Mike was looking at me and I wondered what my expression had been. "Shall we go back in the living room?" I asked. "Is Charlie invited?"
Mike led the way, Charlie and I followed. Mike sat down at one end of a battered couch, Charlie jumped up to lie down beside him, and I sat down in a newer recliner chair that faced the couch. I watched Mike rub Charlie's neck until the cat laid his head down on Mike's thigh and seemed to go to sleep. From the expression on Mike's face, I could tell he cared deeply for this great wild cat.
Finally, Mike looked up at me, and I asked, "Mike, I thought that ranchers automatically hated cougars. How'd you end up with Charlie?"
"I'm not that much of a rancher," he replied. "I've got an Associate's Degree in Forestry from the State College, but the government isn't hiring, lodging's half dead in this area, and the degree's pretty useless otherwise. I raise enough beef here to feed Charlie and myself and to sell a few head, and I have a garden to grow some vegetables, but I get most of my income from my auto and truck repair shop in Elk River. I own half of it, Bill Eckard's my partner, and we've got a couple of decent mechanics that work for us part-time. There's only two shops in town, and we're the only one that can repair heavy trucks and light logging equipment. What with the recession in the logging industry, things are a bit marginal, but we're running in the black."
"I got Charlie two and a half years ago from Tom Jacobs. I mentioned him before. We went to school together until he dropped out in his junior year. He ended up in 'Nam, came back with some shrapnel in his back and a real dislike of organization and authority. He's sort of a mountain man now, but we're still good friends. He hunts and traps and acts as a guide for hunters from the coasts, and he's the best lion hunter in this part of the state. Some cougar had killed several calves about sixty miles north of here, so the rancher hired Tom to get the cat. I went with him to help. His dogs found a scent near the latest kill and they tracked down a female lion that probably lived in the area. She retreated to just outside of a den where Tom shot her. Afterwards, we found she had a couple of three-week-old cubs hidden in the den."
Mike shrugged, looking rather unhappy. "Shit, turned out she wasn't even the real killer. Another calf was killed the next week, so we went out again. This time we found and killed a half-blind sick old male who was probably the real culprit. The calf-killing stopped, at least. Anyway, Tom asked me and Donna to take care of the kittens until he found a buyer for them. The female died of some digestive problem after a couple of weeks. The male was Charlie. I got so attached to him that Tom let me keep him." He looked down at the cougar, smiled, and softly stroked the cat's head and neck several times.
Charlie snuggled his head against Mike's thigh, then lifted his head and yawned. He got up, stepped down from the couch, and turned to look at me. Feeling a little apprehensive but not wanting Mike to think that I was afraid of Charlie, I held out my hand and said, "C'm here Charlie; I want to talk to you."
Charlie walked over and sniffed at my hand, then rubbed his cheek against it. I stroked his head several times. Then, feeling rather brave and hoping Charlie wouldn't do anything unexpected, I gently grasped the sides of his head and turned it up to look directly in his face. Charlie didn't resist, so I looked down at him and said, "Charlie, you were a bad cat today. You were a very bad cat." Charlie didn't look very reproachful, so I continued, "Charlie, a gentleman always asks first. If the lady isn't interested, a gentleman never insists. Clean up your act Charlie."
I let go of his head, and though Charlie still didn't look contrite, he seemed to figure he'd been dismissed. He looked at Mike, who got up and said "O.K. Charlie, time to go out." He emphasized the word out, and the cougar seemed to understand, turning to walk down the hall to his room and pen ahead of Mike. Mike let him through the door, then closed and secured it. He came back but he didn't sit down. Instead, he said "After that dinner and that second beer, I could use some coffee. What about you?"
I said "Sure," got up, and followed Mike back to the kitchen. He pulled a big jar out of the fridge, poured two cups of coffee, then put them in a small microwave that I hadn't noticed before. He set the time and started it going, then turned to ask, "Milk?, sugar?"
"Both." As he pulled a quart of milk from the fridge, the oven beeped so I got the two cups while he fetched the sugar. He drank his straight. I figured I could forgive him for that.
We drank some, then he looked at me over his cup. "Rita, you amaze me." he said. "Any other women I've ever met would still be having hysterics if Charlie did to them what he did to you this afternoon. Instead, you called him over and gave him a lecture. I don't understand how you could be so calm about it."
I took another sip, then put my cup down. "I guess I'm not the type to have hysterics. I'm too practical or something and hysterics never exactly solve your problems. I've usually been pretty good at coping, though I wouldn't say I'm particularly brave or anything. Anyway, you were a big help. You believed me when I told you what Charlie had done, and you were obviously more concerned about me than about him. If you had done anything different than what you did, I'd have probably gone straight from sobbing into an absolute fury."
Mike looked embarrassed again. He looked down, drank some more coffee, then looked back at me. "If I hadn't discovered those bite marks on your neck, I'm not sure I would have believed you. Good thing I noticed them." He shook his head, then said, "I'm surprised you're willing to touch him, especially after what he did. Most women I've introduced to him take a long time to get up the nerve to even pat him once on the head."
I smiled, drank the rest of my coffee, and answered. "I like cats, and I've had a little experience with big cats before. My dad was in the Air Force during the Korean War. His eyes were bad, so he wasn't a pilot. He did administrative work down in San Antonio. That's where he met Mom.
After the war, they transferred us all around the country till he got tired of it and retired. We settled in Cleveland, where his sister's family lived. I stayed with them the last two years he was in the service. An older cousin had a job as an assistant zookeeper at the time. The zoo had some kind of virus, like distemper or something, going through their big cats. A couple tigers and their three cheetahs died from it. To keep some lion and tiger cubs from getting it, they farmed them out to some of the staff for a couple months. I helped Kevin take care of a four month old lion cub named Romeo for six weeks. We had our hands full, but it was fun. So I know a little about big cats. Enough not to go into hysterics over one."
Mike shook his head, smiled, and replied "I still think you're pretty brave." He finished the coffee, held up his cup, "Done?" I nodded. He collected the cups, rinsed them, and put them in the sink. "How are you feeling now? Do you want me to take you home, or would you like to stay a while longer?"
"I think I'll stay a while. I moved out here for the summer to get away from L.A. and have some peace and quiet, but I'd about had my fill of that. I was getting kind of bored. . . till today!" I nodded toward the living room, got up, and led the way. I sat down on the old couch where Charlie had sat. This time, Mike sat down beside me.
"How'd you end up out here," he asked. "This isn't exactly a hot resort area."
"It's a bit of a story, but here goes," I said. Dad got involved in real estate after he left the Air Force. He did pretty well, and invested it in some pretty good stocks. Then Mom got killed by a drunk driver. We all took it pretty bad, but Dad started drinking and he never really stopped. That was ten years ago." I shook my head at the memory. "Dad never really let himself go to hell the way a lot of drunks do. He kept making money till a couple years ago, until he had some problems during the last recession. He went on a real binge which stopped only when his liver put him in the hospital. He dried out, but it was too late. He died last winter."
Mike looked sympathetic, but didn't say anything. I continued, "Dad put me through college. I got a degree in business administration. Went to work for one of the big insurance companies when I finished. Made good money, but I got sick of it. Not just the office politics, but they're all too damn crooked for me. I can tell you every trick in the book on how to cheat people out of their insurance. I just got more and more tired of it. After Dad died, I decided to quit and get out of L.A. I decided to get the hell out of the city for the summer and think things over, so I looked around and bought this cottage from Bob Lanier. He was an associate of Dad's. He's got arthritis so he decided he couldn't keep this place any more. So I moved out here last month."
Mike smiled. "I did some work for Bob a couple of times. He seemed a pretty nice guy. I knew he'd put the cottage up for sale and that somebody had bought it, but I didn't know who. Out here, anyone within a half hour's drive is a neighbor, so I'd thought of stopping by some time to say hello and see who'd bought the place, but I never got around to it. Hell of a way to get acquainted with a new neighbor." He had a point.
I grinned, said "I won't hold it against you." I realized I liked Mike McIntyre, found I was really being attracted to him. I was feeling pretty good, and on impulse, I leaned against him. Mike put his right arm around my shoulders and hugged me, said "I'm glad of that. I hope you won't hold it against Charlie."
I hugged Mike back, said "If he behaves himself, I won't."
Mike looked serious, and said, "He'll be a perfect gentleman from now on, I promise you." I wasn't quite sure how Mike could guarantee that Charlie would keep that promise, but that was OK. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and snuggled against him a little. We sat there a minute, then he shifted to look at me, still smiling. I couldn't look away, and held his gaze for many long seconds. When he broke his gaze, it was to pull me closer and kiss me. My heart was beating hard, and as we hugged each other tightly, I could feel his was beating even harder.
I kissed Mike back, then we released each other and looked at each other with considerable surprise. I hadn't expected this and I was sure that Mike hadn't either. Mike finally reached for me again, and as we held each other, he whispered, "You told Charlie that a gentleman always asks first. Do you want me to ask?"
I held him tightly and softly said, "You don't have to ask. The answer is already yes." I started unbuttoning his shirt. When we were naked, I added, "Don't tell Charlie, he might be jealous."
Mike led me into his bedroom, and we sat on the edge of his bed. After we kissed some more, I asked him, "Promise me two things. Promise me you won't growl and promise me you won't bite my neck."
Mike took time out to blush again, then said "I promise."
We were both fully aroused by then, so I guided him on his back and straddled him. He held his penis straight up for me, and I lowered myself onto it, slowly taking the hard shaft within me. I was afraid I might be sore, but I found I wasn't sore at all, and I came a little as I felt his penis stiffen within me as as I slid down its full length, making waves of pleasure radiate from our joined genitals.
Memory surged within me, and for a moment it seemed as if I were back on the towel behind my cottage, furred haunches pressed trembling against my buttocks, the cougar's penis hard within me. My expression must have changed, for Mike stared up at me. He held still, so I leaned down and kissed him again. Then we started to move. I lifted myself nearly clear of him before lowering myself again as he thrust against me slowly and gently. After a dozen thrusts, I came again, trembling against him while he held me up, pressing his penis deep into me. Then we quickened our pace, rising and falling, thrusting and withdrawing, faster and faster, until he clenched his teeth and spasmed against me, grunting with each ragged thrust, making me come again as I thrust back against him, until we were both spent, gasping for breath, exhausted.
We sat there for a half minute, before I pulled off him and lay back beside him. He turned to look at me as if he were going to ask me a question, but I just leaned over and kissed him again. We lay back again, until I felt moisture trickling down my thigh. Not wanting to drip on his bed, I turned and asked, "Mike? got a towel or something?"
He patted my cheek, said "Yeah, just a sec," got up and grabbed a towel from an old dresser. I pushed it between my legs and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. Mike grabbed a face-cloth, wiped at himself, said, "Just a sec, I'll get a wet one." He stepped down the hall, and I heard water running as I lay back, feeling tired but good. Then I remembered that I hadn't had the time to douche myself clean after Charlie had raped me, and realized that the semen of both the cougar and the man who owned him had been mixed within me. For some crazy reason, I didn't mind.
Mike came back with several warm, wet cloths, and we wiped each other clean. He looked embarrassed, but said "I don't have feminine hygiene stuff, Donna took all of hers with her. I guess you'll have to make due with these." He looked even more embarrassed, but said, "I wasn't exactly planning on this. Even if we'd thought of them, I don't have any rubbers in the house. Are you protected?"
I patted him on the shoulder, and said, "We should be just fine. I've got one of those six-month under-the-skin implants in my arm, and it's guaranteed for another month. Should be good for another four, but they recommend every six months, not nine." Mike looked relieved. I finished cleaning myself the best I could with the cloths, fetched my purse from the kitchen, found a tampon, and used it in the bathroom. That would keep me from dripping.
Mike and I dressed slowly, then sat down again on the old couch. I kissed him again, less passionately this time, and he hugged me in return.
Then I whispered in his ear, "You kept your promise."
He stroked my hair, then brushed it aside to look at the bruises on my neck. He stroked my hair again, then leaned forward to kiss my neck on one of Charlie's bruises. Then he said, "I'll only growl if you ask me to."
"I may take you up on that," I replied.