I woke to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the thin curtains of our new apartment, Miko's warm body curled against mine, her cat tail draped lazily over my hip like a living blanket. Her purring was a gentle rumble, steady and comforting in the quiet morning of December 24, 2025—Christmas Eve. I blinked away sleep, glancing at the window, and sat up slowly to peer outside. Snow. Fat flakes drifted down lazily, blanketing Idabel in a rare white hush, the streets below transformed into a postcard scene. It was beautiful, almost magical, but the sight twisted something in my gut. Beauty in a world that could turn ugly fast.
Miko stirred, her cat ears twitching as she nuzzled closer. "Morning," she murmured, her voice sleepy and content. I forced a smile, kissing her forehead. "Snow's falling. First white Christmas here, maybe." She peeked out, her amber eyes widening with delight. "It's pretty. Like a dream."
But my mind was elsewhere. Trent's words from yesterday echoed: "Assassinate the remnants." He meant hybrids like her—like Sylvia. In anger simmered inside me, hot and unrelenting, but I buried it deep. Today, I had to act normal. No slipping up at work, no letting him see the rage. Miko didn't need more worry; she'd been through enough.
I dressed quickly, heading to Hank's general store for my shift. The snow crunched under my boots, a light layer already accumulating. Inside, the store was quiet—holiday slowdown meant fewer customers, more busywork. Trent was there, stacking boxes with that same stoic expression. "Morning," he grunted, not looking up. I nodded, forcing casual chit-chat about the weather. "Snow's coming down hard. Roads might ice up." Inside, fury boiled—how could he talk about killing innocents like it was nothing? But I played it cool, stocking shelves, sweeping aisles, laughing at Hank's gruff jokes about Santa skipping Oklahoma. The anger festered, a knot in my chest, but I held it together. No confrontations. Not yet.
Shift over, I pocketed my $50 and headed out, the snow now a steady fall, turning the town into a winter wonderland. I detoured to a small clothing shop on the main drag, the bell jingling as I entered. The place was decked in holiday lights, racks of coats and hats promising warmth. For Miko, I picked practical pieces to help her blend: a beanie to cover her cat ears, a long scarf for her tail, loose sweaters and pants in neutral tones. Nothing flashy—just enough to hide her hybrid features if needed. The anger fueled it; I wouldn't let Trent or anyone like him touch her.
Then, gifts. Christmas Eve deserved something special. I browsed the jewelry section, spotting a simple silver ring with a small diamond embedded, sparkling modestly under the lights. Perfect for Miko—elegant, like her. I added two bottles of wine: a rich red for us, and another as a gift for Sylvia and Elena. The clerk wrapped them neatly, and I paid with cash, the total dipping into our savings but worth it.
Home smelled like heaven when I walked in—spices, garlic, something savory simmering. Miko was in the kitchenette, stirring a pot, her tail swishing happily behind her. "Welcome back," she purred, turning with a spoon in hand. I set the bags down, inhaling deeply. "Smells amazing. What's cooking?"
"Stew—veggies, some meat I picked up. Figured we'd celebrate." She grinned, but I couldn't resist teasing. "You? Cooking? Back when we were roommates in that old house, you always relied on me to handle the kitchen. Burned toast queen, remember?"
She laughed, swatting my arm playfully, her cat ears flicking. "Hey, I've learned! Besides, you were always so good at it. But tonight, it's my turn."
A knock interrupted—Sylvia and Elena, bundled against the snow. "Heard there was dinner," Sylvia said, shaking flakes from her fox ears as she stepped in, Elena close behind with a bottle of cider. We gathered around the small table I'd ordered (delivered just in time), the apartment still sparse but warming with laughter. The stew was hearty, conversation flowing about the snow, the protests (carefully skirted), and holiday plans. After plates were cleared, I handed out the gifts.
"For you two," I said, passing the wine to Sylvia and Elena. "Merry Christmas Eve."
Elena smiled warmly, hugging me. "Thank you. This means a lot."
Sylvia uncorked it dramatically, taking a swig before grinning mischievously. "Ooh, fancy. Trying to butter us up, handsome? Or is this your way of saying you miss our... company?" She winked, her tail curling teasingly, earning laughs and an eye-roll from me.
They left after, the snow still falling outside, promises to meet tomorrow lingering in the air. Alone again, Miko and I dimmed the lights, the TV flickering with a holiday movie. "Your turn," I said, pulling out the ring box. "Merry Christmas Eve, Miko."
She opened it, her eyes widening, a gasp escaping. "It's... beautiful." Tears shimmered as she slipped it on, the diamond catching the light. "My first actual gift. Not scavenged or stolen—just... for me." She launched into my arms, kissing me fiercely, her purring loud and joyful. "I love it. I love you."
We cracked the wine, sipping from mismatched glasses, the rich flavor warming us as we talked—dreams, fears, the future. The alcohol loosened us, laughter turning to touches, until desire ignited.
Our lips met, wine-tinged and hungry, her tongue dancing against mine with feline playfulness, exploring every corner of my mouth as if savoring a new toy. The kiss deepened, her hands threading through my hair, pulling me closer with a gentle tug that sent shivers down my spine. I could taste the lingering notes of the red wine on her—tart and full-bodied—mixed with her natural sweetness, an intoxicating blend that made my head spin. Her purring started low, a vibration that rumbled from her chest into mine, amplifying every sensation as our bodies pressed together.
I pulled her onto my lap on the mattress, my hands sliding under her sweater, fingers tracing the soft curve of her waist, up her sides to cup her breasts. She arched into my touch, her cat ears flattening against her head in pleasure, a soft mewl escaping her lips as I thumbed her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra. They hardened instantly under my attention, peaking into firm buds that begged for more. "Mmm, yes," she whispered, grinding slowly against the growing bulge in my pants, her heat seeping through our clothes, teasing me with promises of what was to come. Her tail swished behind her, brushing against my thighs like a feather, adding teasing tickles to the building fire.
I stripped her sweater off slowly, savoring the reveal—her skin flushed a soft pink in the dim light, her full breasts heaving with each ragged breath. I unclasped her bra, letting it fall away, and my mouth descended immediately, capturing one nipple between my lips. I sucked gently at first, tongue swirling around the sensitive peak, then harder, grazing it with my teeth just enough to make her gasp and clutch at my shoulders. Her purr grew louder, vibrating through her body and into my mouth, a rhythmic hum that sent jolts of pleasure straight to my core. My free hand kneaded the other breast, rolling the nipple between my fingers, pinching with increasing pressure until she whimpered, her hips bucking against me in needy rhythm.
Her scent enveloped me now—warm, musky, with that unique feline allure, like sun-warmed fur mixed with arousal. It drove me wild, my cock straining against my pants as I kissed lower, trailing my lips down her stomach, nipping at the soft skin just above her waistband. She lifted her hips eagerly as I hooked my fingers into her pants and panties, sliding them down her legs in one smooth motion. She was bare before me, her pussy already glistening with wetness, folds swollen and pink, clit peeking out invitingly. I parted her thighs wider, blowing a cool breath over her core, watching her shiver and her tail lash wildly against the sheets. "Please," she begged, her voice breathy and desperate.
My tongue darted out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe from her entrance up to her clit, savoring the tangy sweetness of her arousal. She bucked instantly, a moan tearing from her throat as I delved deeper, tongue plunging inside her to lap at her walls, then withdrawing to circle her clit with firm, insistent strokes. Her juices coated my tongue, dripping down my chin as I worked her, fingers joining the assault—two sliding in easily, curling to hit that sensitive spot deep inside while my mouth sucked her clit relentlessly. "Oh god... right there, don't stop," she panted, her hips grinding against my face, her tail wrapping around my arm like a vice, the soft fur adding a tantalizing texture. Her purr was a constant now, vibrating through her core and into my mouth, making every lick feel amplified. I increased the pace, fingers thrusting faster, tongue lashing her clit with rapid flicks until her body tensed, walls clenching around me in waves—she shattered with a cry, her orgasm crashing over her, flooding my mouth with her release, thighs quivering as she rode it out.
Panting and flushed, she pulled me up, kissing me deeply, tasting herself on my lips with a hungry moan. Her hands were frantic now, stripping my shirt over my head, nails raking lightly down my chest, leaving faint red trails that stung deliciously. She pushed me back onto the mattress, her cat ears perked forward in predatory focus as she worked my pants open, freeing my cock—it sprang out hard and throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip. She wrapped her hand around it, stroking slowly at first, her grip firm and teasing, thumb swirling over the head to spread the slickness. "So hard for me," she purred, leaning down to lick a long stripe along the underside, her tongue rough and textured like velvet sandpaper, sending electric shocks through me.
She took me into her mouth fully, sucking deep, her head bobbing as she hollowed her cheeks, tongue swirling around the shaft while her purr vibrated along my length, intensifying every sensation to near overload. I groaned, my hand tangling in her hair, guiding her gently as she deep-throated me, gagging slightly but not stopping, her amber eyes locking onto mine with wicked heat. Saliva dripped down, making it slick and messy, the sounds lewd in the quiet room. I thrust up instinctively, but she held my hips down with surprising strength, controlling the pace, teasing me to the brink without letting me tip over.
"Inside me... now," she demanded finally, pulling off with a wet pop, her lips swollen and shiny. She straddled me again, positioning herself above my cock, sinking down inch by agonizing inch, enveloping me in her tight, welcoming heat. We both moaned loudly—her walls pulsing rhythmically around me, still sensitive from her earlier climax, her purr rumbling through our joined bodies like a shared heartbeat. She started slow, rocking her hips in circles, grinding her clit against my pelvis, then built speed, bouncing harder, her breasts jiggling with each descent. Her tail curled around my thigh, holding tight as if anchoring herself, the fur brushing my skin in teasing strokes.
I gripped her hips, thrusting up to meet her, the rhythm turning urgent—deep, powerful strokes that filled the room with the wet slap of flesh on flesh. Sweat beaded on our skin, mixing and slicking us further. "Harder," she begged, leaning forward to change the angle, her clit rubbing frantically against me. I flipped us without breaking contact, pounding into her from above, her legs wrapping around my waist, nails digging into my back as she urged me on. "Yes... fuck me like that," she gasped, her purr turning into throaty mewls.
Positions blurred in the haze of passion: I pulled her to all fours, gripping the base of her tail as I slammed in from behind, her ass jiggling with each brutal thrust, her yowls echoing off the walls; then sideways, her leg hooked over my shoulder for deeper penetration, fingers rubbing her clit in fast circles; back to missionary, slow and intimate now, our kisses syncing with every thrust, her purr a constant undercurrent. Orgasms layered upon each other—her coming again with a squirt that soaked the sheets and my thighs, her walls milking me relentlessly; me following, spilling deep inside her in hot, thick spurts, but pulling out only to plunge back in, rehardening quickly in her heat.
We continued, wine-fueled stamina pushing us further: her riding reverse cowgirl, ass bouncing as I watched myself disappear inside her; me pinning her against the wall (mattress forgotten), lifting her legs around me for standing thrusts; slow spooning, my hand between her legs teasing her clit while I rocked gently from behind. Each peak was more intense—her body shuddering, nails leaving marks, tail thrashing wildly; my releases filling her until cum leaked down her thighs, sticky and warm. Sweat-slicked skin slid together, scents of arousal and wine mingling in the air, the room a heated cocoon.
Finally, utterly spent, we collapsed back onto the mattress, limbs entangled, her tail draped over us lazily, her purr fading to a soft, contented hum against my chest. Sleep claimed us, the snow silent outside, blanketing the world in temporary peace.
Christmas Eve ended in bliss, the threats of the world held at bay for one more nigh.