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The time alone was quiet.
Strap’s panther relished being in the forest with leaves and pine needles cushioning the ground he walked on.
While he wasn’t going to chase them, he could hear chipmunks running around and playing with each other. Their tiny twitters and chirps settled in Strap’s chest as he dove into his wildlife side.
The dried scent of nature wrapped around his body and pulled him in. Soon, he was rolling onto his back. Strap enjoyed the little bits of interaction he’d had with natural-born panthers, the camaraderie he had with the others. These beautiful creatures tended to be solitary, but it was okay if they lived their lives individually, but the pride was always there if ever needed.
Strap preferred the solitary life, but running with other panthers every once in a while was invigorating. Not male panthers, just females. Other male panthers were dicks about him being around their prides.
Not that it mattered to Strap. The other natural-born animals of his species always thought he was a bit off … Strap attributed it to the scent of a condor and a human on a panther, and vice versa. It was also what made humans the easiest creatures to be around. Even though they were much more dishonest, they couldn’t smell very well. To humans, his shifter abilities were just another aspect of oddness, which suited Strap fine most of the time.
The scent of fur and musk stopped Strap in his tracks.
His stomach rumbled.
Strap fell to his belly. He waited. Breathing slowed. Eyes widened. Whiskers twitched as the animal jumped closer to him.
Strap moved his back feet getting ready to pounce.
The small rabbit came into view. It stopped, its nose squirmed, and its ears jerked.
Strap memorized each movement of the rabbit. The way its paws rubbed against its face let Strap know how it would run. The twittering of its tail, whiskers, and ears all moved as a quick dance with no steps.
The wind changed, and the rabbit stopped cleaning itself. It had caught his scent, and he pounced.
The rabbit’s feet leapt out of Strap’s mouth, only millimeters away. Strap would have rabbit fur in his teeth after the chase was over.
His heart picked up the pace. His sight honed in on the zigzagging creature.
A thrill shot through Strap as he chased his prey. A lightning bolt of excitement burst from his heart and spilled over the rest of the panther's body. He kept pace. He kept running. He saw his chance.
As the rabbit went to the right, the path laid out for Strap. He launched into the air and landed, mouth open a few feet in front of him. The rabbit caught in his maw.
It kicked and struggled, but with a sharp shake of Strap’s head, the rabbit went still.
Strap continued on, happy that he would provide dinner for his mate tonight.
Mickey sat on the front porch with her laptop when Strap meandered out of the forest and crossed the street. She had seen the whole thing through the cameras and followed him into the cabin.
She flopped down on the bed and watched as Strap dropped the rabbit, then shifted into human form. He felt her eyes gazing at him with appreciation, and he sensed the change in the air when she zeroed in on his cock.
He turned to her, fully erect, and she flicked her gaze up to his eyes. “That was really something,” she whispered. Strap suddenly felt like he was the rabbit and she was the predator.
“Thanks.” Strap stalked toward her. “It's instinctual, hunting. Catching something almost feels as good as sex.”
Mickey inhaled sharply as Strap leaned over her body. He didn’t kiss her. He still had rabbit fur in his teeth … he just wanted to tease their connection.
When he backed up, Mickey relaxed and laughed. “Well, you’re good at it.”
Strap picked the rabbit up and placed it in the sink. “Yup.” He looked over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows. “I need to clean the rabbit off of me. I’ll be back in a bit. I’ll cook it up.”
When he got in the shower, he envisioned Mickey coming in and fucking her against the wall. When she didn’t, disappointment cracked open his chest. But, instead of letting the adrenaline go to waste, he rubbed himself off with soap and the image of Mickey bouncing over his cock.
Strap finished with a loud groan and sprayed himself down the drain.
It was not lost on him that he hadn’t been able to masturbate in the shower for five years. He wouldn’t have dreamed of it. Now, he had another freedom he’d never give up again.
Strap toweled off and walked out in pajama pants. They were light blue and had cartoon eggs, bacon, and sausage dancing across them.
