DRIVES

	Scout glanced up from the city traffic and caught sight of Judith winking at him in the mirror.  He smiled, reached up, and touched the brow of his cap with his fingers.  In the mirror, Judith rose slightly, bringing her bare breasts into his view.  A man's head rose, pursuing a nipple, and even through the glass divider, Scout heard his mistress moan.
	Scout turned his eyes back to the road.  The huge, lengthy automobile was difficult to negotiate through the narrow streets of Lakehead's downtown.  The ungainly black machine Scout piloted was one of the largest and most expensive Overland Motors made.  But Judith Broadfield would have no less than the very best.  Scout thought of this, pride stirring in him.  The chauffeur's uniform fit him perfectly.
	There was a muffled squeal and a shrill giggle from the back seat.  Suddenly Scout's uniform didn't fit quite so well in the front, as his crotch reached up for the steering wheel.  Scout looked down at the bulge in his smooth black trousers and remarked, "Let me drive, okay?  I see better than you..."
	Scout wondered if it might not see better if he let it out.  But he decided, even with tinted glass all around them, that that would be, somehow, unprofessional.  He would have his time.  In the meantime, he thought to himself, drive.
	In the rearview mirror, Judith's lithe, young, utterly naked vulpine body rose and fell rhythmically, pillared high over its unseen mustilid companion.  Scout ground his teeth, aching for her.  Her eyes opened to slits and met his in the glass otherworld in the middle of the windshield and she smiled, just a hint of cruel tormenting in the upturned lips.  She knew what she was doing to him.  And she loved it.  Perhaps even more than she loved what she was doing to the other man in the back with her.  Judith, Scout had learned, was like that.
	Opera.  They were on their way to the opera.  Judith Broadfield had, naturally, a private box, where of course she and her escort for the evening would watch the show in rapt attention for perhaps the first fifteen seconds before stripping off clothes barely rewarmed to their bodies, and falling, pelt to pelt, to the floor, giving a performance of their own that no one could see.  Or perhaps some would, and not know it: it would not be at all unlike Judith to climb naked into this man's lap and couple in clear view of the audience below.  The dress she was wearing from time to time this evening was strapless; they would never know, seeing only her bare shoulders and lovely neck, that the rest was on display as well behind the lip of the balcony.  The opera itself would cover her cries no matter how engaged she became.  And even if the whole audience knew, they would smile and chuckle to themselves.  She was a Broadfield; more specifically, the young, free-spirited Judith Broadfield, the toast of Lakehead's social calendar.  It was in the nature of the Lakehead elite to be carnal adventurous, pretending that no one suspected, and Judith Broadfield was the most adventurous of all.
	Scout turned the corner onto Front Street; the opera dome loomed two blocks ahead.  Reluctantly, yet with the same teasing air that Judith had just shown him, Scout pressed the intercom button.  "Forgive me for interrupting, Ms. Broadfield," Scout uttered, hoping only the tiniest suggestion of his grin was betrayed in his voice, "but we're nearly there.  You might wish to powder your nose."  Powder your nose was, of course, a euphemism for 'stop fucking and get your asses dressed'.
	Judith reached languidly for the button on her side of the glass.  "Thank you, James," she moaned softly.  "I'll do that."
	There was new movement in the back, slow and reluctant, and Scout made sure to hit both the red lights remaining.  When he pulled the town car up before the opera house, Scout watched as attendants hurried to open the door for Judith Broadfield, and the press crowded in to see with whom she was attending, flashes lighting the night like rabid fireflies.  Judith stepped out, her athletic form fresh as a daisy in spite of it all.  She was an expert at this sort of thing.  Her companion, a tall, thin otter, was not quite as adept at straightening his ruffled tie, and he was no longer quite the well-groomed, pressed dapper fellow he'd been when he'd entered the car.  Minor socialites smiled into their paws and some applauded, no doubt in tribute to how well Judith had carried off the illusion that she hadn't just been doing what they all knew she'd just been doing.  Judith strode unhurriedly in, her friend on her arm, without a glance back at Scout.  It wouldn't due to display too publicly that one's chauffeur were worth a moment of one's personal regard.  Scout accepted this as part of the game.  He knew how she felt.  She showed him almost nightly.
	A few of the reporters took it upon themselves to inspect the young fur who had, in fact, driven the celebrated couple up.  Three or four crowded the car, and a camera flash reached powerfully into the interior, making Scout doubly glad he'd resisted the urge not to resist the urge.  A young woman tapped on the glass.  Scout ignored her, like a watchman of old, his mind seemingly completely occupied with his duties.  A concierge waved him forward with a signal light down into the parking garage below the opera house.  Scout nosed the juggernaut forward, mindful of the admiring eyes stroking the car like some naked lover, and he turned slowly down into the bowels of Lakehead society.
	There were very few cars in the garage, actually.  Only a very few of the people here tonight had their own chauffeurs to wait on them, and this made Scout's position all the more prestigious.  Carefully, his mind pouring automatically back over his months of training, he backed the car into a typically overly-wide spot, and shut down the engine.  Silence flooded the car, momentarily overwhelming.  He stepped out of the car, the floor of the garage warm and powdery under his feet, and padded to the back, letting himself into the passenger compartment.  He let his hat fall from his well-groomed head onto the seat, and loosened his tie.  Lying on his hip, he switched on the television set molded into the paneling.  Television still held his rapt attention, even after nearly a year back in civilization.  It didn't even matter what, at least not yet; he was aware that he had not become discriminating about content, as Judith had repeatedly pointed out, but was satisfied with the medium in and of itself.
	Scout opened the small refrigerator in the side panel.  Reaching for a cola, he noticed a large piece of paper.  He blinked at it.  CHANNEL 90, in large, hand-printed block letters, was all it said.
	Scout stared at it.
	"Channel--?"
	His paw rose to the television; switching channels briskly as he poured the drink into his muzzle with the other paw.  Channel 90.  Scout peered.  Dead air.  Snow abounded, just like in the wintry forest home he'd left behind to join Judith Broadfield's life, almost a year ago.  Scout sighed, and left it on, feeling compelled, as if under orders merely for having opened the fridge.
	He took another pull on the dark, fizzy liquid, the can refreshingly covered in a cold sweat, as if terrified to be consumed.  Briefly Scout's mind wandered to thoughts of hunting and the tiny game animals of the woods, the thousands that had died to keep him alive... and now his prey came with pull tabs.  He smiled.  Life definitely was better as a civic than a fauve.  No one knew that better than him.
	The was a soft sound from the television.  The screen went blank.  Instead of snow, a pitch black night now reigned there.
	"What the?"
	There was motion, the muffled sounds of movement, and then vague, distant operatic mumblings...  Light began to filter through and Scout realized he was looking at the contents of a woman's purse.  Judith's.
	Suddenly there was a flurry of motion and a gush of soft light, which resolved itself into a perfect black and white image of Judith.  She smiled at Scout.
	Behind her, the man she was with sat, shirt open.  "What's that, Jude?"
	"It's a little camera, Dwayne.  We're going to have an audience tonight."
	Dwayne cocked an eyebrow, a smile forcing his muzzle wide.  He eyed the camera rakishly.  "Oh, really?  Who?"
	Judith settled the camera on one of the adjacent seats, smiling, her wrap clinging tightly to her like a second skin.  "James," she told Dwayne, and then crawled a yard or so over to where he sat.  "And, I suppose, anyone else within a block radius who happens to tune to channel 90 tonight."  She giggled, nuzzling the front of his pants.
	"Oh, shit," Scout muttered.  He wanted to turn the set off but his cock wouldn't let him.
	"Your chauffeur?" Dwayne chuckled.  "Is he old enough?"
	"He has his license, doesn't he?" Judith nuzzled, licking the still-clenched zipper, stretched to breaking from beneath.
	Dwayne's paws roamed Judith's hair.  "That doesn't mean anything," he grinned.  "With your connections, you could probably get a driver's license for a ten-year-old..."
	"I'll have to give it a try," she purred to him, "if I ever get horny enough to hire a ten-year-old chauffeur...."  Judith's paw rose, slowly closing on Dwayne's fly.
	Dwayne eyed the camera, looking right into Scout's eyes.  He chuckled, "You're a lucky boy, James."
	Scout nodded.  Dwayne moaned as his penis pushed through his opened codpiece and immediately into Judith's pouncing mouth, even as she skinned the pants off of him, down to his well-furred ankles.  Scout watched her literally unroll the tubelike wrap from her otherwise naked body as she went down on Dwayne, mouth never missing a stroke.  Scout bit his lip, and felt dampness where his penis strained at his pants.
	Judith paused to look at the camera.  She said, "I didn't want you to feel entirely left out this evening, Jimmy.  So you just sit back and take good care of yourself till mistress can do it for you..."
	"Do a good job for him, my gorgeous little slut," Dwayne said, his voice already shaky.  He winced as she playfully gripped his cock in her teeth.
	Scout's paw rose to the power switch but just lit there, pausing.  He watched them, both of them now completely naked except for Dwayne's unbuttoned shirt, and admired what a gorgeous couple they were in spite of himself.  Dwayne had a firm, large, handsome cock, and Scout found himself wondering what it would be like to have it in his mouth.  Or plunging into his ass.  Maybe, if things went the way they sometimes did with Judith's escorts, he might just get the chance to find out.
	Dwayne stroked Judith's face as Scout rolled onto his belly, trying not to surrender to his needs.  He would save it for her return.  It would be all the sweeter.  Dwayne moaned, "Oh, shit, Judy, you're good...  C'mere, let me in your cunt again..."
	Judith smiled as she rose, her bare back probably visible to the root of her tail to anyone below who happened to glance up at the box... She stepped forward as Dwayne cast off his shirt, billowing down behind him like inhibitions made real and left behind, and she pressed down into his lap, taking his cock instantly and expertly up into her soft, wet snatch.  Scout moaned, his cock jumping in his pants as he watched the unbelievable ease with which they coupled.  His own body, ripe with new manhood, burned and pulsed with perfect timing to their rhythms, and finally, impulsively, he surrendered to his urges, and opened his pants.  He shoved them down past his knees with a feral whimper, and his paws clutched at his heavy penis, his balls already shifting under the force of the load they were concocting.  He leaned back, his hands riding his pole like acrobatic firemen.  He closed  his eyes and bared his teeth, images of his body invading Judith's, conquering Dwayne's playing out against his eyelids...  His tongue lolled, pink and dripping as he lost himself in the...
	...Knock at the window.
	"Fuck!" he cried, his paws already clumsily yanking up his pants.  He glanced over; a face was barely visible in the strong, harsh light of the garage outside the heavy tinted glass.  His brain worked hard to convince himself that there was utterly no way this interloper could possibly see into the dark cabin, but nothing could penetrate the superstitious bent that demanded that what could go wrong, would.  Nevertheless, the knock came again as Scout struggled to make himself presentable.  Finally sufficiently together, he pressed a button on the door and, with a slick, powerful whine, the window crawled down into its hiding place, vanishing.
	The face that met his gaze was pleasant, young and bright.  Older than his by perhaps a decade, but no more than that.  Feminine.  For the first time, Scout noticed the scent of the fucking that had been going on in the back seat, juxtaposed against the cool, unspiced air of the garage.  He hoped that this woman, whoever she was, didn't notice, and suspect him, since she almost certainly knew what he'd been up to.  Scout swallowed, and, as nonchalantly as he could, he croaked, "Can I help you with something, ma'am?"
	"Are you Judith Broadfield's chauffeur?  James McIntyger?"
	Scout blinked.
	The woman's smile faltered, just a bit, and she reached into her purse and produced a card, glanced at it, and nodded, mouthing his name silently.
	"Uh, yes," Scout said, finally.
	"Oh, good!  Whew!" she smiled, nervously.
	"I'm sorry, if you're looking for a story, I'm not at liberty to discuss Ms. Broadfield's affairs..."  Scout winced, internally, at his unfortunate choice of words, but held firm on the surface.
	"Oh.  Well, I mean, I expected as much."  She pulled a face, a tiny look of entrapment worrying her features.  "It's okay," she told him.
	"I'm sorry," he said.
	"It's alright."
	The young woman glances around, as if looking for alternatives.  There was a loud moan from the TV set.  Scout remember that his mistress was, in fact, fucking on live TV just inches out of sight... Scout leaned forward discretely, shutting off the set, just as the young woman turned.  "Pardon?  Did you say something?"
	"Uh, I said, OHHHH, I wish I could help you," Scout supplied, lamely.
	"Well... listen... what if we just talk?  Off the record?"
	:Scout's ears folded slightly.  "What do you mean?"
	"I mean, let's talk.  Whatever you say, I promise, it will go no further.  But it might give me some leads to follow up on my own..."
	Scout hesitated.  His instincts were to help this person, but his mind told him it was bad news, and to avoid her and just get on with life.  "What leads?"
	"Oh, I don't know," she smiled.  "I'm supposed to cover her... it's only my fourth assignment.  I'm pretty new at this."  Her eyes met his.  "Please.  I'm not much older than you.  I'm still young and idealistic enough to have principles...  I swear, I won't use anything you tell me, not directly."  She leaned into the open window like a hooker, begging a chance to prove herself.  Scout routinely had to order them away from the car as well.  But somehow, this was different.
	"What if we talk about you?" she said.  "I'm bound to pick up things about Ms. Broadfield just in learning about you."
	Scout smiled.  She knew males well.  The fastest way to get any male talking was to bring up the subject of him.  "You're pretty good," he told her.
	"What do you mean?" she blinked.
	"Nothing.  ...Well, I suppose, if you promise not to use anything I say in a story.  Or at least nothing she'd know could only have come from someone close to her," Scout sighed.
	The reporter giggled.  "That's just about everyone on the east coast."
	Scout cracked a smile, a genuine one.
	"Look, could I step inside?  I've been on my feet out front and they're killing me."  She leaned down in the window, apparently rubbing one raised foot in demonstration.
	"Sure, I guess so."  Scout pressed a button and the lock on the door shot open with a loud, solid thunk.  She opened the door with a wide grin and eased herself in, daintily, but quickly.
	Scout surveyed her.  Her fur was a coat of gold, handsomely spotted, her throat and muzzle a brilliant, well-kept milky white, with just enough creamy tint to give it life.  Her eyes were the colour of melted milk chocolate, and glistened just as warmly.  Her form was still narrow with youth, and he judged her to be somewhere in her early twenties.  Her legs were long, lean, her feet largish and soft-looking, dusty with the hours of pensiveness out on Front Street.  Her arms and shoulders were bare, in the fashion of the evening; a blue bracelet gracing her right wrist, and a small silver watchband the left.  Her dress was narrow and a bit frilly, but not overstated.  It bared her knees, but nothing much higher.  The tips of her ears bore long, soft tufts, hinting at some varied ancestry, albeit nothing nearly so eclectic as his own.  Her hair was done up in a bun, but carried off with enough innovation and flair to prevent the look seeming spinsterly.  A few hairs, probably left stray deliberately, hung down over her face.  She sat quietly, face turned to him with a her eyes intensely upon him, combing his form for details just as surely as his had.  She leaned slightly forward, challengingly.
	"I'd like to know your name," Scout breathed.  Quickly he added, "...And who you work for..."
	"Yes, of course, of course, I was just going to get to that..."  She dug into her handbag, overly large for the occasion, but a reporter probably had call for more things on a working evening than just a compact with a scent and powder in it.  "Just a second, hold on," she stalled, burrowing into the bag, tossing impediments out onto the seat.  Scout grinned inside; women were the same everywhere, no matter whether they were big city girls looking for pieces of plastic that said they were who they said they were, or naked, flea-bitten ragamuffins in hard-scratched holes in the forest, digging around for that 'special' apple they had picked for you earlier that day.  The motions were the same, the nature of the beast the same.  He smiled, recognizing certain warming constancies in life.
	"Here!" she cried, shoving a laminated card with her photo on it.  Black and white, it managed to be flattering and intimidating at the same time.  It showed her in a thick white jersey, off one shoulder sloppily, with her hair down, and the effect was striking.  Her eyes were sullen; she almost looked like she was pouting.  She seemed to read his mind.  "I know, I know, it's an awful photo," she breezed.  "Brad -- he's the studio photographer at the paper -- he said to look mean, or no one would ever take me seriously."
	"I think it's a lovely photo," he told her, earnestly.  He read the pertinent information...  Jody Feldarina, reporter, Lakehead Chronicle.
	"Do you really?" she smiled.
	"Yeah," he nodded, handing it back.  "You look great with your hair down."
	She smiled at him, her delight unaffected, and she tucked the identification card carelessly back into her handbag, where it would jumble gregariously amongst the contents until the next time she pawed hurriedly through them in search of it.  She dumped the other contents she'd poured out back in as well.  "So tell me about yourself," she prompted, picking up a tiny notepad she'd left on the seat, and a worn, well-chewed pencil.
	"What do you want to know?"
	"What do you want to tell?"
	Scout sighed.  "I'm not very interesting."
	"Ohhh, I'll bet you are.  You're Judith Broadfield's chauffeur for a reason, James."
	"Well, to start with... my name's really Scout.  James is one of my middle names."
	Jody checked her info card as if she could discern if he were lying from what it maintained.  "Those assholes, they never get anything right.  I'm sorry."
	"No, no, it's okay.  Everyone here calls me James.  That's what Ju-- Ms. Broadfield calls me."
	"Why does she call you James if your name is really Scout?"
	"James is my middle name.  One of them.  Scout James Arthur Teal McIntyger."
	"Whew!  What a mouthful.  I'm just Jody Ruby Fedarina."
	Scout smiled.  "James was my father's name.  Jim McIntyger.  Arthur was his father.  Teal was my mother's father."
	"Your parents were married, then?"
	Scout sniffed, slightly offended.  "Yes.  A year before I was born."
	Jody seemed to sense his irritation and said, "Forgive me for asking... my notes say you were a fauve, and it's unusual for a fauve to have married parents."
	"I wasn't born a fauve.  I was born a civic.  On a train.  That's how I got my name.  My mother was on her way home when she went into labour on a train.  The only one there to help her was this little Boy Scout.  She never got his real name, so she called me Scout.  But as far back as I can remember, I lived in the woods."
	Jody nodded, penciling notes, her tongue perched between her lips like a kingfisher over a stream, waiting for an unwary morsel to swim by.  Scout realized that he would have to watch what he said.  "Do you know how you wound up there?"
	"Not really.  I know my folks got into some kind of trouble, and my mother took me and we hid out as fauves.  I guess it took her a while to adjust, but the fauves we lived near were kind and looked after each other, and they took good care of us.  My mother never told me what kind of trouble she was in, though."
	Jody chewed the tip of her pencil.  Her eyes met his; he sensed her wrestling with an awkward question, and he reckoned he could guess what it was, but he volunteered nothing.  She would have to ask.
	"Your mother..."
	"She died.  A fire, when I was five."
	"You're sure?"
	"Don't you think she would have come back for me if she were alive?"
	"Maybe she's someplace, thinking you're dead too."
	Scout regarded her, icily.  He had long since surrendered his mother to the past in all but his enduring love of her, and did not appreciate having his emotions toyed with for the sake of some intellectual exercise.  Jody moved on.
	"What do you remember then?"
	"Granny Elsa looked after me, sort of.  She wasn't my real grandmother; the local fauve kids just called her that.  But I lived with Dennis."
	"Dennis?"
	Scout sighed, and nodded.  "Dennis..."  A pang of loss tore at his guts.  "He was about three years older than me.  He was eight then.  He lived by himself, and he knew how to survive.  I loved him."
	Jody nodded softly.
	"He died in the flood last year.  That was when Ms. Broadfield took me in."
	"Took you in?"
	Scout nodded.  "Yeah, I mean, I was half drowned.  There were people everywhere.  Townspeople, government workers...  I was in shock; I just remember someone soothing me and when I woke up, I was in Lakehead.  She looked after me and made me feel good.  She said I could be her driver if I wanted to stay around, and she'd see I got schooling and some nice things.  I always wanted to live in the city, so I stayed."
	Scout stared at her for a moment.  She waited.  Scout said, "That's about it."
	Jody nodded, still making notes.  "You've had quite a life!  If I can get you to open up more in depth, there may be a hell of a story in you, all by yourself."
	Scout beamed, and then wondered if he weren't being buttered up.  "I doubt it," he said.
	Jody set her notes aside, and scratched her knee.  "Uhhh..."
	"What?"
	"It smells... interesting in here."  She smiled.  Scout's heart froze.  The reporter said, "I don't suppose you two were... I mean it's none of my business--"
	"Sure isn't!"
	Jody blinked, stunned.  "I'm sorry.  Please.  I didn't mean to offend you."
	"Yeah, well..."
	"It's just... well... I couldn't help noticing what you were up to when I tapped on the glass--"
	Scout winced.
	"It's okay with me!" she said quickly.  "It's completely natural.  I do it myself."
	"It is natural.  People here seem to think it's something filthy, and I'm getting paranoid about it."
	Jody nodded.  "You probably didn't wear much in the wilds."
	"Nothing.  I went naked my whole life till last year.  Except when I was really really little, I guess, before we went fauve.  Dennis and I had pants we used to put on sometimes if we went into town to make money or steal stuff..."
	"It's illegal for fauves to handle money."
	Scout shrugged.  "Sure, but most do anyway, from time to time."
	"How did you make money?"
	"People wanted certain favours... we provided them."
	Jody blinked.  "Sex?"
	"Sometimes.  Sometimes people wanted a room painted, or their garage cleaned out, or something stolen from a neighbour's house... sometimes they wanted a blowjob.  When there was something we wanted to buy, we did odd jobs."  Scout reached into his pocket and produced a rusty harmonica.  He pressed it to his lips.  Warbly, discordant notes composed themselves into music.  Jody listened.  "It was Dennis's," Scout said.  "It's all I have left of him."  He cradled it in both paws, and then secreted it back into his pocket.
	"You must miss him."
	"Ever morning when I wake up... and every night when I go to sleep."
	Jody's paw lit on his thigh.  She stroked him comfortingly.
	"You're so young to have such troubles," she sighed.
	"I'm okay, most of the time," he said.  He resisted an urge to reciprocate, keeping his paws flat on his chest.
	Jody pushed closer to him.  "I'm going to be blunt.  And you can kick me out of the car if you want to, but I'm going to ask.  I have to.  You and Judith Broadfield... everyone suspects, but no one I talk to is sure just where you fit in.  Are you her lover?"
	Scout regarded her closely.  He boiled for a moment, and then realized that, aside from her being a reporter, he didn't mind the question.  Normally, he'd be talking about her anyway.  And as long as Jody was pledged to confidentiality, how was this any different?  "One of her lovers," he said.  "Maybe her most convenient one."
	"Ah."
	"I have my own room, but I'm usually only in it when she's entertaining someone who doesn't like groups or males."
	Jody suddenly smiled, her eyes shooting into him like darts.  She came to life, her clawtips drumming on his pant leg.  "Rrrrreally," she growled, lecherously.  "I imagined that was true, but it's another thing entirely to hear it from your own mouth."
	"She calls me her pet."
	"Her pet?"
	"Yeah.  I... obey her."
	Jody giggled.  "Tell me."
	"When she has company over, I do things for her.  For them.  Sometimes to myself, sometimes to them.  I enjoy it... it usually feels good, and it lets me show her I love her."
	Jody clawed softly at his thigh, scritching, clearly hearing what she had come after.  Scout noticed her nipples pressing hard against the sheer material of her dress, only a millimeter or two of cotton fiber between her and the naked air.  For a split second he imagined his lips clamp over that nipple, his paw massaging the other breast, but he forced the image down as quickly as it occurred.  But it was too late; his body betrayed him, in a similar, but rather more noticeable way, to the way Jody's had betrayed her.
	Jody noticed.  She smiled down at the stretched fabric in his lap.  "So... if it wasn't you and her back here who made the place smell so wonderful... then who?"
	"She and her escort.  A fellow named Dwayne."
	"Dwayne Littlecreek, the fellow she arrived with.  Naturally," Jody smiled.  "On the way over?"
	"Yeah.  Right up till they had to get out.  They're still at it."
	"How do you know?"
	Scout was trapped.  He wondered what to do...  He knew for a fact that Judith and Dwayne were fucking; or at least had been as recently as fifteen minutes ago...  Should he squirm out of it and merely say that he suspected it to be true, based on assumptions about Judith?  That made her sound cheap, or at least, his estimation of her.  Or should he just say, I've been watching it...?  That might be amusing.
	Jody eyed him narrowly, suspiciously, apparently sensing something potentially interesting in his hesitation.  Her paw squeezed tightly on his leg.
	"Tell me," she breathed, huskily.  "You know something, and you're not telling."  Her eyes were playful.  They dropped into his lap again.  "Something good, too, I'll wager."
	Scout could smell a new scent in the air.  It was subtle, but unmistakable.  The smell of Jody's rising heat.
	"Maybe we should just end this," he muttered.
	Jody blinked at him.  "Why?"
	"I don't think this is just an interview anymore..."
	"I don't think so either."
	Scout's mouth dropped open.
	"Tell me..." she purred, "...tell me just what your mistress is doing right now."
	Jody crowded in against him, her breath warm on his face.  Her paw crept into his lap, massaging the swollen desire to be found there.
	Scout's soul raged with civil war.  She presumed a whole hell of a lot, and it offended him.  Kick her out!  But she was lovely, friendly, and he needed release... if she were willing...  Kiss her.
	"She's... she's fucking, Jody..."
	She smiled, and licked his cheek.  "Tell me how she's fucking."
	"She's kneeling in Dwayne's lap, moving her hips up and down..."
	Jody frowned at him.  "That's a little too exact.  How do you know that?  Something's odd."
	Scout swallowed.  "Promise me you can keep a secret?"
	"I thought we'd covered that, Scout.  Yes. You can trust me."
	Scout hesitated... then reached up and turned on the TV.
	Jody frowned, puzzled at first.  "Okay, so you have--"  Finally her eyes caught sight of what was going on...
	Judith Broadfield, in a sharp, black and white image, was kneeling in Dwayne Littlecreek's lap, his paws on her hips, fucking her.  Just as Scout had said.
	Jody gasped, either stunned or aroused, or both.  "So that's why you were..."
	Scout nodded, the car suddenly reeking with Jody's needs.  "Yes."
	She watched the screen, mesmerized by the groaning, rhythmic copulation it glowed warmly at them, her paw stroking absently, yet teasingly, in Scout's lap.  Scout looked at her; a tight, monochrome blue dress a bad choice for this sort of thing, a spot of dampness at her lap testified.  "How long did you watch me?"
	Jody's eyes flickered to his, and back to the screen.  "Just for a minute or two," she admitted, unthinkingly, and then realized her faux pas and locked eyes with his.  "I'm sorry," she said.  "But..." her eyes went back to the screen... "..I've always been a bit of a voyeur."  She swallowed, dry-mouthed.  "I guess that's why I became a reporter."
	On the screen the bodies moved together, the whimperings and moanings now covered by the intensity of  the music below them.  "Jesus... they're beautiful.  How in the name of God are we seeing this?"
	"Judith must have some little camera.  I found this..."  Scout showed her the note.
	Jody blinked.  "She ordered you to watch this?"
	"Basically."
	"And you have to just sit here and watch, alone?"
	"Yeah, I guess that was the idea."
	Jody's face inched closer to his.  Their noses fairly touching, Scout studied the tiny gray flecks in her hazel eyes.  "No you don't," she breathed.  Their muzzles met, tonguetips meeting tentatively, then diving into one another's homes as their mouths widened, forming a warm, wet, shared cave.
	There was a sudden commotion onscreen, and even in the midst of things, the two of them looked up.  Someone had evidently come knocking at the door of the box, and Judith rose from Dwayne, his cock bare and glistening even in the pale light, as the firm, bouncing naked form of his mate for the evening bounded to the door.  "Who's there?" she asked, quite close to the camera.
	"It's me, Judith, Davida!" called the voice on the other side of the door.  The opera was at a low moment, and the conversation was quite distinct.  Judith opened the door and a second vixen, taller and slightly leaner than her, squeezed in quickly and shut the door.  She giggled.  "I'm sorry I'm late..."
	"Better late than never," Judith purred, kissing her.
	Davida kissed back, and her eyes strayed to the camera in one of the seats.  She looked unseeing out of the screen at Scout and Jody.  "Hello, what's this?"
	Judith giggled.  "If I know him at all, James is in the car right now, watching our every move.  Say hello to him, Davida."
	Davida chuckled and leaned in close.  "Hello, Jamey!"  She dove a kiss at the device.  "Why don't you bring your stripy cock up here and make me happy with it again?"
	Judith took Davida in her paws and pulled her away.  "Oh, no, Davida.  Not tonight.  Tonight James is merely a witness, not a participant."
	Davida giggled, kissing Judith.  "Teasing poor Jamey?"
	"Mercilessly.  I'm sure he'll be in quite a state by the time I get him home tonight."  She licked her lips.  Then she smiled coolly at the camera, her eyes meeting Scout's.  "That's if I come home tonight."
	Scout blinked, stinging.  There was a low growl.  Scout turned to see Jody scowling, her ears bent slightly back.  She looked at him out of the corners of her eyes.  "Doesn't that bother you?" she begged.
	Scout shrugged.  "You get used to it."
	Judith turned back to the screen.  "I wouldn't."
	Davida nodded to the camera in feigned sadness.  "Poor Jamey.  You'll just have to fuck me some other night.  I hope it's soon..."
	"Oh, it will be, it will be," Judith purred to Davida,  her paws already skinning a similar tubelike dress from Davida's body.  "How is Terry?"
	Dwayne's eyes poured over new addition as Judith made her naked.  Davida smiled at him as Judith crouched before her, tugging the dress down to Davida's feet like a mother undressing her child for the bath.  Davida picked her feet free.  "You tell me," she smiled wryly.  "He's been in your bed more recently than mine, so I hear."
	Judith sprang to full height again, paws around Davida's neck, nuzzling her, kissing softly, quickly, tail wagging.  "Well, you know Terry," she said.  "Stable for months, but every now and again, he gets a thorn in his foot and spends a little time bedhopping to see who can pull it out."
	Dwayne smiled, his paw reaching out to rub Davida's taut bare rump.  "I gave it my best shot a couple of nights ago.  That mouse has more seed to sew than any ten farmers."
	They all laughed.  Scout and Jody moved their mouths together, Jody stroking his hair, Scout fondling her breasts held by the thin material, her nipples hard against his thumbs, both of them with one eye on the screen.  Scout felt Jody's paws stray to his lap, softly massaging, teasing, and exploring the barely-concealed bulge they found there.
	"As long as you did your best to make each other feel good," Davida purred to Dwayne, stroking his face as Judith's paws roamed her body.
	Dwayne pawed softly at her hip.  "It's been a long time since you and I have had a chance to make each other feel good," he murred softly to her.
	Davida nodded.
	"Too long, I'll wager," Judith smiled, taking hold of Dwayne's stiff cock and massaging it as she tugged Davida over to it.
	Davida gasped.  "Oh, Judith, are you sure?  I don't want to interrupt.  I can wait my turn."
	"It is your turn, love..." Judith told her, and kissed her.  Dwayne smiled, his baritone purring filling the air just like the mingled scents of Jody's and Scout's arousal.  As they watched, Judith positioned Davida's hips over Dwayne's, pressing Davida's pussy to the tip of his pulsing cock, and coaxed the other woman's hips down...  Davida moaned as settled into Dwayne's lap, her cunt swallowing him completely.  Dwayne made similar, deeper sounds as he felt his manhood surrounded again by soft, wet pussyflesh, hot as a steambath.
	Scout panted softly, his tongue caressing the side of Jody's neck.  "Jody," he breathed, and felt her paws rub with increasing vigor at his codpiece.  He caught a subtle lift of her dress, baring most of her thighs, and, paw shaking, he daringly slid his hand up her smooth, spotted leg until it burrowed under the hem of her dress.  Her tongue found his ear as he brought his fingertips to her bare pussy, the lips soaking and slippery, as was the inside of her legs half way to her knees.  She gasped as he touched her sex, her own paws beginning to fidget purposefully in his lap...  On screen, Davida was lying back on Dwayne, who fucked her vigourously, his paws kneading her breasts as she bucked; Judith kneeling between their twining legs, lapping excitedly at their coupling.
	Scout turned his attention back to Jody, and gazed into her loveliness, her eyes closed as her mouth worked against his, and he purred strongly, almost beyond self-control.  Her eyes suddenly jumped open, starling him.  She pulled back.  "Scout!" she yipped.  Her eyes set down into a wicked cast, and she growled, almost as if they people on TV might hear her...  "Would you like to get some really good revenge?"
	Scout blinked at her.  He had to admit, inside, it hurt to be excluded, and it hurt more to have it flaunted.  He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and chuckled.  "What do you mean?"
	"How many people could possibly be watching this?  Can you tell me?"
	Scout shrugged.  "Well, it's transmitting... from what she said, anyone within about a block radius ought to be able to see this, tuned to channel 90..."
	Jody looked like a perfect scheming devil as she grabbed for her handbag.  Diving her paws into it again, this time she quickly found what she was after, and produced a video cassette.  She eyed the VCR slot just below the screen.
	Scout blanched.  "Oh, no!  No no!  She'd kill me!"
	"You said it yourself.  Anyone for a block could tape this.  There must be half a dozen apartment buildings clustered within a block of here.  Chances are, my dear, someone else is taping this right now..."
	Scout squirmed.  "What would you do with it?"
	"Ohhh, not much.  Just see to it that it winds up in the video editing room at work where the greasy-furred tech boys are..."  Jody giggled.  "It'll be all over the city in a week, I guarantee it.  And no one will ever know from where."
	Scout smiled, and glanced at the screen.  He turned to Jody.  "You swear you'll never tell?"
	"I'd get fired, Scout."
	"Well..." he thought, "...okay then."
	With a gleeful dip of her head between her shoulders, Jody shoved the tape into the machine and pressed record.  The rest would be, as they say, history.
	Jody licked her lips and pressed in against Scout.  Their muzzles met again, unselfconsciously.  Scout turned his body to face hers, his leading leg up on the seat, pressed to her hip, and he felt her paw open his zipper and his cock springing free again, a warm paw, guided by touch alone, closing a fist around him in welcome.  A moment passed, and Scout rose up, tugging at Jody's dress, even as she pulled his pants off his hips.  As they gathered at his knees, she released them and raised her arms, allowing Scout to lift the pretty dress from her otherwise unclad body.  Naked now, she smiled at him, an astounding innocence managing to light on her face.  Some touch of gawky awkwardness clung to her overall graceful features, and she looked to Scout nothing so much like a farm girl, stripped of her coveralls in favour of some naughty naked swim in the late afternoon.  But they were up to a naughtiness far more profound than skinny dipping... and if they were going swimming, it would be in each other.  Scout shrugged out of his jacket and shirt as he worked his pants down his calves to his feet, and off... his eyes never leaving hers.  Skyclad, he knelt, his young manhood studding the air, as if too anxious to wait for the implied caress of Jody's flesh.
	Their eyes were on one another now.  Scout hardly noticed the game Judith and Davida were making of mounting Dwayne in quick succession, apparently playing musical chairs with his impending ejaculation (with the winner being, presumably, the woman whose vagina housed Dwayne's cock when it fired its live-forging charge).  Wordlessly, Jody rolled back, her feet lifting, knees raised, her legs open in unmistakable invitation.  Moaning fiercely, Scout crawled forward.  She folded him in her arms as he came to her, kissing, and guiding himself to her.  The approaches to her intimacy were so slick he virtually fell into her, and in a sweet moment, he was inside her.
	Scout's tail rose high over his back, jerking stiffly as he pushed himself as deeply into Jody as he could go.  Their spots met and mingled as their bodies pressed together, and their muzzles met in a round of wet kissing.  Scout held still in her, feeling her sex all around his, locked to her as if their bodies were now one forever.  Scout noticed her fumbling absently in her bag as they kissed; he looked up as her paw emerged with an object.
	A small flash camera.
	Scout blinked.  She giggled wickedly, and Scout smiled.  She brought the camera to her face, and Scout pushed up off of her just far enough for her to get a wonderful shot of his penis embedded in her flesh.  She snapped the picture.  "Scout... pull it out for a minute."
	Scout protested in his heart -- not ever wanting his cock out of her tight snatch again -- but he went with her request and slowly, inchingly eased his pulsing, rigid manhood out of her.  It glistened in the fluorescent light that filtered through the tinted glass, and he sat back in front of her.
	Jody raised the camera.  "Lick it.  Lick my juices off of it."
	Scout grinned, and slowly doubled over.  He sniffed as his cock, as he was wont to when lonely and aroused... the scent of Jody's pussy clung powerfully to his cock.  He began licking it.  The camera snapped.  He mouthed the cap of himself.  Snap.  Purring, he slipped his muzzle down his length, sucking.  Snap.  Snap.  Snap.  The taste of her cunt mingled with the familiar flavour of his own flesh was a powerful aphrodisiac.
	"Okay," she giggled, "that's enough.  Save some for me."  Leaning back, she handed him the camera.
	Scout took it, and watched as she settled back, and, just as he had, slowly, tenderly began attending herself with her tongue.  Scout watched her feet rise into the air as she seized the backs of her thighs and held her pussy to her face, diving her tongue into it and whining.  Scout took four pictures before she let her hindquarters drop away from herself.  She took the camera and set it aside.  She held her arms open, and Scout crawled forward to her.
	There was a brief commotion on the screen.  In the middle of Judith's ten count (apparently each woman got ten bounces on Dwayne before switching), Dwayne groaned and gave up his jism into Davida's pussy.  Davida clapped her paws as she felt the hot white spurt and Judith hugged her, as the male thrashed and gushed inside her.  Dwayne recovered instantly, grabbed Davida's hips and jerked them to his face.  With a shrill squeal, Davida scurried forward, her feet trying to keep up with her ass as Dwayne mounted her onto his face and began to lap the semen out of her cunny.  At once Judith knelt and began to suck his cock, cleaning it, gobbling the little spurts that still erupted.  She grabbed the service phone.  "Think I'm going to order up a little something," she giggled.  There was a pause, with the only action Davida's ass riding Dwayne's face, and then Judith said, "Yes, I'd like you to send up an usher, please, and make sure you send a male.  Thank you."
	Jody boggled, her eyes wide at Scout, and the two of them laughed.  Then their faces met in a kiss, and Scout positioned his hips and slipped into her again.  This time, they began to move together, and fuck.
	Scout's paws found Jody's breasts and he massaged them softly, nuzzling her nipple, and then gently taking in between his teeth.  His tongue lit on the bud, dancing lightly, and Jody moaned.  He felt her cunt grip his cock and he moaned back to her.  His balls were already tight against his cock, and he whimpered to her, "Don't do that, Jody, I'll cum too soon if you --"
	She growled, grinning at him, and her pussy contracted tightly around his cock.  She gave three hard, deep pulls on him, and Scout thrashed, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes as he came!  He felt his sperm bound down the narrow corridor of his cock and splash out, liberated, into her hot, waiting pussy, and she moaned and purred beneath him, her eyes closed, as if recording the sensation in her mind.
	Scout licked his nose, panting, his cock still hard and sensitive now, at its most naked.  He kept it inside Jody, licking her neck, thumbing her nipples, and she ran her claws gently up and down his back.  "Oh, Jody," he moaned softly.  She kissed him, her paws still coaxing him.  Her tail rubbed his balls, and he moved his cock slowly inside her.
	There was a sound from the TV.  Jody and Scout glanced over together, catching sight of Judith and Davida kneeling between Dwayne's legs, lapping his cock like puppies sharing a nipple, and then Judith springing to her feet at the sound of a knock.  She opened the door, and a bewildered looking young man, not much older than Scout, half-stepped, half-stumbled in as Judith grabbed him by the hand.  He work a bellhop's uniform, likely red, Scout imagined, with a little vest, a small round cap, and matching trousers with a yellow stripe, ending just below his knees.  He had a large, bushy tail, and looked vaguely rodential.  They all chuckled at the young fellow, who blinked at the naked trio, watching, utterly flabbergasted, as Davida crawled up into Dwayne's lap again, sinking onto his cock.  Judith pressed a fifty dollar bill into his paw.  He croaked, "Can I get you anything, ma'am?"
	"Yes.  Naked," she replied, shutting the door with her tail as she yanked his pants down to his ankles with great aplomb.  His cock was a already hard, and he staggered back a step in shock; she kissed him.  His eyes closed and his paws folded around her as Scout and Jody watched.  When the kiss broke, she slipped down his body and began to massage his cock, and then suck it.
	"Jesus," Jody moaned.  "She only just met him!  How can she fuck someone she only just met?"
	Scout and Jody's eyes flew together as the irony of Jody's admonishment donned on them simultaneously, and they erupted in gales of laughter.  Their eyes met again, and Scout pressed his muzzle to hers.  They kissed.  A glance at the screen showed Judith bent down, holding her toes, while the usher, still dressed from the waist up, held her hips in his paws and fucked her vigourously.
	Scout growled lustily, and with a grin and a quick sympathetic movement, Jody pushed at him.  He seized her ankles and held them to his shoulders as, his cock never having left her body, he began fucking her powerfully, his cock nicely greased with his own semen.  Scout got the comically idea that it was just like fucking an angel  food cake -- soft, moist, and ever so sweet -- and he fought down the urge to laugh -- laugh with humour, laugh with youth, laugh with joy.  Fucking her, he celebrated.  He was alive.  So was she.  What lengths they were going to prove it!
	Jody clutched at Scout's neck, holding his face to hers, necking passionately as he moved purposefully in and out of her body, tickling electrical arrows shooting back and forth between the root of his cock and the base of his tail.  It was smoother this time, building slowly, and not the constant fight not to shoot it had been the first time; he merely let the feelings pour over him, unresisted.  He was lost in her, till there was a sudden giggle, and he heard her open the door of the car; cool, dry air from the garage rushing in refreshingly, the feral smell and steamy heat of their coupling screaming out silently into the night.
	"What are you doing?" he panted.
	"You'll see," she smiled, and eased him off of her.  He felt a moment of regret as his cock slipped from her body, but he watched with keen interest as her lovely body rolled, turning, and she set pads on the garage floor...  He was awed how she managed to make her nakedness look both sinfully decadent and housewifely appropriate at the same time.  It would be easy to love her, he realized, achingly.  Very easy.  Maybe too easy...
	Casting glances around like a naked little girl about to dash across the lawn, she giggled.  "I can't believe I'm doing this," she told him lowly, and stepped from the car.  She turned, crouching, and Scout understood instinctively what she expected.  He slid forward, settling his ass on the lip of the seat, the lower half of his body outside the car with her.  She smiled, pleased by the rapport they seemed to share, and she took him in paw, and then in mouth, moving her face slowly up and down his cunt-flavoured shaft.  A quick glance at the TV told him that little had changed, except the couples had switched dancing partners; Judith now rode Dwayne's cock again, while the usher fucked Davida almost viciously.  Scout nodded to them dismissively, and turned his attention to Jody, her bare, spotted back and bobbing head all he could see of her.  "The camera," her heard her say to his cock, as if it were a living microphone.  "The camera."
	Scout understood and found it quickly, at the top of her jumbled junk in her handbag.  He pointed it in his shaky hands, and spreading his legs, feet raised for the sake of the shot, he took a picture.  Then another.  He congratulated himself for his cleverness: one shot with her down to his balls, one with his cock almost totally exposed.   She was purring with him in her throat.
	Scout set the camera aside and touched her face.  "I want to lick your pussy," he breathed.  She rose, holding his cock, and moved to kneel on stand with her pussy in his face.  Bending over, she swallowed his cock.  He buried his muzzle into her soft pubic valley.
	She tasted unique.  Her own bodily secretions, his semen, and some sort of subtle scent she dabbed, obviously, to various crevices in her body.  He licked at this matchless perfume, his soft tongue parting her delicate folds, and caressing the bare, velvety skin revealed.  He heard her moan around his cock, and he licked her clit gently.  Scout felt her twist her face, varying the angle and the depth by which she took his cock, and he pushed it up at her.
	A car started somewhere in the garage.  They both froze, heard it drift off, and went back to pleasing each other.  Scout lifted his chin a bit, tonguing Jody's exposed anus.  He heard her squeal and he chuckled and teased it softly.  She raised her head.  "Jesus!"
	Scout growled and slowly, excruciatingly his tongue slipped around her asshole, dipping in, pushing her open, tasting the daily business of her body.  She was clean, but the scent of her was alive, and he strengthened in her mouth.
	After a moment her heard a feral noise from her and felt her shift.  She took her ass from his face and squatted into his lap.  He felt his cock poke against her anus, and she carefully pushed down onto him, swallowing him with her tight backside.  She whimpered, and he held perfectly still, letting her take him slowly.  Her paws rubbed her sopping pussy as she began to slowly, painfully move up and down his cock.  He took her hips in his paws, but held still, letting her accostomize herself to it.  Finally, when she settled back, and her strokings were measured and sure, he began to fuck.  Gently, but deeply.  She moan, softly, the two of them taking their time now.
	She was tight.  Glorious inside.  His balls crowded up, and he now he kept a low rhythm to prolong the session.  She lay back against him, twisting to kiss his muzzle.  He kissed back.  Tongues meeting, they moved together beautifully.  He heard her whine, and her voice fill the garage sharply, her bark echoing as he felt her cum, her wetness dripping from her open snatch down onto his balls.  He hugged her, and she writhed, head back over his shoulder, arched, claws out in the air, as if dying.
	But she was far from dying.
	She kissed him.  "Are you close?" she breathed.
	"Very," he told her.
	"Good," she smiled.  Painfully, he felt her moving, pulling off him.  She rose, rubbing her ass.  Standing now completely outside the car, she looked around.  Scout watched, cock pulsing slowly.  Jody kicked out away from the car a few yards... proud, arrogant, yet playful.  She looked around, and finally motioned him over to a concrete support with the area parking area number stenciled on it.  Scout sat up, glanced around...  How quickly he had learned to be modest!  Fifteen years naked, and now wary.  But he stood, and followed her out across the dusty, cool floor of the garage.
	She turned to face the pillar, and, pressing her paws to it, she bent down, hiking her tail, exposing her sex.  "Hard and fast," she snarled.  "Finish it, you gorgeous little beast."
	Scout's breath caught in his throat.  Skillfully, adroitly he mounted her.  She gasps as he re-entered, and began to fuck her mightily.  Moaning, fucking right out were anyone could see them; it stirred them both, and Scout moved quickly toward completion.  Glancing up, and to his right, he saw her reason for choosing the spot.  A security camera was fixed squarely on them.  Somewhere a floor or two above them, to be sure, security staff were crowded around a monitor, laughing and pitching tents in their rented uniforms.  A mood of playfulness overcame him, a desire to show off; and as he neared climax he began to fuck Jody as he'd seen non-morphic stags fuck their does...  With each thrust, he lifted himself merrily off his feet, toes clearing the floor, as if to play leap frog.  But the idea here was not to launch over Jody's back, but to ram his fuckmeat as hard and as deep into her cunt as he could.  She giggled, thrilling, pretending to admonish him to stop, but aiming her slit to him each time he jumped.  Gasping her voice jarring with his deep banging, she said, "Pull it out when you cum, lover... pull it out and show them..."  Clearly, she knew he was aware they were fucking in a deliberate public eye.
	"Yeah... yeahhhh..." he moaned, first in agreement, and then as his orgasm actually began to overtake him.  Squeezing her hips powerfully, he gritted his teeth, and will all the willpower he could muster, he honoured her request and slipped his cock out of her.  Slapping it into her asscheeks, he slipped his cock back and forth in the furrow a couple of times before, toes splaying, throat opening, he yipped, and volleys of sperm shot from his cock... initially onto her back, but then spattering a few times on the pillar just over her head.
	Jody looked up as Scout oozed down the support in front of her.  "Jesus!!" she marveled.
	Scout shuddered, his cock drooling residual cum down its length and into her furrow.  He panted, and growled.  He had to move quickly... he knew if he did it right, did it just right... he'd managed it before...  Scout slipped his cock into Jody's pussy again and rubbed himself quickly in her, almost violently.  She yelped and gripped the pillar, surprised and happy.  Scout pumped, closing his eyes, concentrating on the sensation... making it a tight little point to focus on...
	He'd done it.
	With a cry he shot a second load, in quick succession with the first, this one up into Jody's twat, this one all hers.  He whimpered, sore already, as she moaned and clutched his cumming manhood with her deep, tight pussy.
	They stood there, wobbling rag dolls, still in tie for a moment.  Scout leaned down and licked his semen from the fur on her back, still softly fucking her, in just the same way as a jogger "walks off" a long run.  Jody purred to him, panting, soft pink tongue lolling, and she moaned his name softly.
	As if of one mind, they staggered back to the car to relax, falling together in a warm, sweaty heap.  Kissing, petting, they adored each other for a while, savouring whatever time they had left.  On the TV screen, Judith and Davida were locked in a warm sixty-nine, while the young usher slammed his cock into Dwayne's ass with a fury not unlike Scout's of a few moments earlier.  They watched, contented, unaroused, merely admiring.  Scout purred, mind empty, his soul full of peace and calm.
	He woke.  Thunderous applause poured into the car from the TV screen, and he sat up with a start.  He was naked; the front of his body was streaked with dried fluid; his fur crusty and matted.  He was alone.
	He blinked.  Was it a dream?  There was not a single hint anyone had been with him.  The tape in the VCR, if there had been one, was gone.  The circulation system in the car had removed any lingering scent of the evening's copulations.  His cock was well-licked and merely tasted cummy, as it would have if he'd simply masturbated.  Perhaps he had.  He sighed.
	He glanced at the screen and saw Davida sneaking away, giggling, waving at the door, wearing Judith's dress.  Judith, pulling on Davida's, blew her a kiss.  Dwayne was straightening his clothing, and the usher was nowhere in sight.  Scout began to dress; there was no urgency, but he knew he should be ready when -- if -- Judith arrived.
	"Why don't you two go have some more fun?" Judith suggested.  "I think I have a little, whimpering chauffeur to take care of tonight."
	"Ohhhh, I wish I could help you too," Davida smiled.
	"Yeah, that might be fun," Dwayne nodded.
	"Oh, no.  Tonight, I'm going to reap what I've sewed.  I'll bet Jimmy's ready to fuck through brick!"  She giggled.  "You can both come over tomorrow night and use him if you like."
	"It's a date," Davida growled, and, taking Dwayne's elbow, they stepped from the box.
	Judith held the camera to her face.  "You better be ready for some hard driving, James," she said.

	As it turned out, Judith kept him up all night, and left him feeling pretty good as he drifted off.  In the morning the society pages of the newspaper printed several photos of Judith (among other prominent people), grouping photos showing, without comment, Judith and Davida arriving separately in their own dresses, and leaving in each other's.  Moreover, Judith arriving with Dwayne, and Davida leaving with him.  It was obvious to anyone over twelve what had gone on.
	Judith smiled.
	Scout wondered all the following week whether his  evening with Jody had been real or not.  At first he was fairly sure it had, but as time passed the disappointing sense that it had only been a dream grew.  Even when a tape of what had gone on in Judith Broadfield's opera box began to circulate in town, he remained unconvinced: anyone near the opera house could have taped it.  Judith pretended to be outraged by this "invasion of her privacy" -- conveniently forgetting that she herself had broadcast her activities -- but secretly she was delighted, Scout knew.  He suspected she grew aroused every time she imagined her tape playing in darkened living rooms where young couples were inspired to fuck on the couch, intent on the screen; or bespectacled teenage boys crowded their TV sets, jacking off, squirting their cum all over her tits, begging God to give them just five minutes fucking her...  And she would have obliged every one.
	After a while, Scout stopped wondering.
	A couple of weeks after it all, Scout sat in the living room at loose ends.  Judith was out, and had been for two days, unaccountably -- at least to him.  His tutor had just left, and he lounged before the television, dressed in track pants and a blue shirt.  The phone rang.
	"Broadfield residence; James speaking.  May I help you?"
	There was a hesitation.  "May I speak to Ms. Broadfield?"
	"I'm sorry, Ms. Broadfield is unavailable at the moment.  Would you--"
	"Will she be back soon?"
	"I'm afraid I don't know, ma'am.  Would you like to leave a message?"
	Another pause.  "No, thank you."
	"You're welcome.  Good bye."
	"Good bye..."
	And Scout thought nothing of it.  Twenty minutes later, someone buzzed up.  Lobby security, the blinking light indicated.
	"Hi, Bill, what's up?" Scout called into the intercom.
	"There's a courier here, says she has a personal message for you, Jim.  Do you want me to let her through?"
	Scout blinked.  "Yeah, sure, Bill.  Thanks."
	"No problem."
	Scout padded to the door of the sprawling penthouse into the elevator lobby.  He waited.  When the door opened, a young woman in a frock coat stepped out.  She peaked out from under the wide brim of her huge hat, grinning.
	"Jody!"
	She smiled.  "Are you alone, Scout?"
	"Yes... yes, I'm alone..."
	Jody opened her coat, letting it slip from her body.  Naked, she stepped up to him.  "Not anymore you're not."
	Scout blinked away tears.  "I thought you were a dream, Jody.  I didn't dare call the paper, for fear they'd say they never heard of you.  I had no proof you ever existed."  His paws massaged her hips as they nuzzled.
	"You mean, like this?" she said, and stooping, pulled an envelope from her discarded coat.  Scout opened it.  It was the photographs of their love making.
	"Oh, God..."  Scout smiled, moving slowly through the first couple, and then  turning his attention to Jody.
	"Would you, uh, like to see the place?"
	"This whole floor hers?" Jody purred, creamily.
	"Yup.  Everything.  Like a tour?  The swimming pool is hers, the garden is hers, the skyline view is hers... What would you like to see first?"
	She kissed him smolderingly.  "Show me her bedroom, Scout..."
	Scout did.