In Hot Pursuit

In terms of modernness or amenities, her hotel room wasn’t all that great. Then again, it was bigger than her apartment—sized for the larger creatures who lived in this world. She could run laps on her bed if she wanted to.

The downside was that all the fixtures were too high to be comfortably used.

The shower was mediocre, the water tepid, and the soap was lavender-scented, which almost covered up the faint mildew smell pervading the hotel room.

Judy wrapped the bath towel around herself and regarded the little desk—she could hop up into the chair, but she instead just leaned up against the bed, got out her notebook and began writing a detailed account of everything that had happened to her thus far—the theft, the pursuit, the portal. Ultimately, she was going to be collecting days of overtime pay, so it had better be a compelling narrative.

She looked at her pile of clothes and thought about the fact that all she had was her police uniform—would wearing it be considered impersonating a police officer? She, of course, was a police officer, but her jurisdiction only extended to the greater Zootopia metropolitan area, not whatever world this was.

If what Mr. Capper Dapperpaws had said was true, she didn’t need clothes . . . and that thought got her thinking about the horse cock she’d been clutching not that long ago.

Just the memory of it was making her horny. The heat, the heft—even the scent, exotic and enticing. Without even considering what she was doing, her hand went between her legs, reaching for that familiar pleasure spot.

How would it feel to really touch it? Not just bump into it and hold on to it, but to feel it sliding against bare fur? To have it between her breasts, or between her legs? It wouldn’t fit inside her, but she could straddle it, slide up and down its length. Wrap her arms around it, kiss it, lick it, explore every delicious inch of it.

She let the towel fall away and ran her hand up her stomach, over her breasts, and then back down again, ruffling and smoothing her fur in the process. She could still feel the subtle divots on her hips from her utility belt, then she went past that, back between her legs, teasing herself—as if she needed to—her fingers touching oh-so-familiar flesh.

Judy let out a soft moan and leaned back on the damp towel, spreading her legs to give herself better access, imagining the sheer weight of that cock pressing against her, rubbing up against her clit.

Just as she started to get into the zone, she heard footsteps in the hall and pulled the towel back around herself, covering up as best as she could. As they faded off into the distance, she got up and checked to make sure that the door was still locked.

It was.

She didn't have her rabbit, which was a crying shame. Not something that was part of a police uniform, although it could be strapped to a utility belt . . . Chief Bogo would not approve.

Why was she thinking of Chief Bogo? Judy focused her mind back where it belonged, tuning out everything else, bringing back the memory of the feel of horsecock. The warmth. The heft. The pulsing veins, the mottled shaft, the flared flower-like tip—all the good things as her fingers worked between her legs.

🥕🥕🥕

As she sat resting in the afterglow, more practical thoughts came to mind. For one, she needed to find a stallion. That one from before was long gone; she’d seen him and his sister walk off, wagon in tow, as she was entering the hotel lobby.

Surely; there was a bar. Surely there was a stallion interested in a one-night stand.

🥕🥕🥕

Judy got half-dressed; she left her ballistic vest and utility belt behind. She couldn’t help that the pants were an occupational giveaway. It was either that or go out in just her panties . . . or nude. Something she’d considered, and decided it was a bridge too far. She’d actually steeled herself to do it, turned away from the pile of clothes on the oversized hotel bed, had her hand on the handle and even cracked open the door before she decided she couldn’t. She might be able to deal with everyone else going around nude, but body modesty was too well engrained in her mind.

🥕🥕🥕

The hotel did have a bar next to it. That was both convenient and a potential cause of trouble, as she well knew. Some people got flirty at the bar, the hotel was right there, and—very convenient.

A good officer did her recon. Just ordering a drink and hoping a horse showed up wasn’t a winning strategy. Instead, she poked her head in and scanned the room.

She was in luck; there was an equine. This one had a baby-blue coat and a two-tone curly blue mane and tail. And a horn, which made it a unicorn. That was half the battle—was he a stallion?

He was twisting balloons into animals and hats. It wasn’t the first time Judy had seen that done, but it was the first time she’d seen it done with hooves. The entire process was fascinating.

Whether he meant to or not, he was also giving her and everybody else a good look at his crotch. He had to sit on his rump to tie the balloons, clearly revealing his sheath and balls. That was all the confirmation she needed.

She marched up to the bar and ordered a carrot beer and set up watching him as he made his way around the bar, leaving balloon animals and balloon hats in his wake.

It seemed like the kind of thing that would appeal to cubs, not adults, but then everything in town had seemed dirty and dreary, including the citizens. Capper and the horses seemed to be the only exceptions. Surely there was some reason for that.

🥕🥕🥕

She waved him away when he first approached. If she wanted to talk to him—and she did—it would be better that he had given his attention to everybody in the bar first, so he wasn’t rushing along to his next thing.

In some ways it was like interrogating a suspect. Get them comfortable, get them wanting to help you. She hadn’t really had much training in that area, but she’d picked up a few things from the detectives and learned some things on her own.

So Judy sat and nursed her carrot beer while he made balloon animals and balloon hats, and as the bar got both rowdier and more cheerful. Her second beer smoothed off her apprehensions, at least to a degree.

He finally came over and she motioned to the chair. He shrugged and sat in it; if the table hadn’t been in the way she’d’ve had a great view of his crotch.

“So what brings you to Kludgetown? You live here?”

“I’ve been wandering,” he said. “Used to live in a small town and our leader went mad with power . . . I haven’t really found anywhere to set up new roots yet, but a lot of creatures need some light in their life, and that’s something I can do.”

“Seems like something leaders do,” Judy muttered. “I was in a similar situation once.”

He leaned in and lowered his voice. “If you’re thinking of moving to Kludgetown, I don’t recommend it, it’s kind of depressing.”

“I’m just here for a couple days. On business.”

“Is that why you’re dressed so fancy?”

Pants and a work shirt wasn’t fancy, but she let it slide. “Sure. Hey, rude of me to not introduce myself right away. I’m Judy Hopps.” She stuck out her paw, and he reached up and bumped it with his hoof.

“Party Favor.”

Of course he wouldn’t shake; he couldn’t. Not with hooves.

“You want something to drink? My treat?”

“Sure.” He lifted his hoof up to his lips and whistled; a moment later a waitress in a drab, torn skirt or apron appeared. “The usual, she’s paying.”

The waitress nodded and went back to the bar, and Judy leaned in. “The usual? You’re a regular, then?”

“For now.”

The two of them sat in silence until the waitress set down the bottle in front of the unicorn. Clover beer, and it smelled good. Judy signaled for a bottle for herself—her second carrot beer was almost gone anyway.

“Kind of rude of me to ask, but the last . . . creature I met used his names interchangeably. Do you prefer ‘Party’ or ‘Favor,’ or what?”

He shrugged. “Most ponies just use both. How about you?”

“Judy to friends.”

“Are we friends?”

She lifted her newly-delivered beer bottle and clinked it against his. “We are now.”

🥕🥕🥕

Their conversation was interrupted a few times as new bar patrons arrived; Party Favor got up and made them balloon animals or balloon hats, then returned to sit with Judy.

At what point the conversation should turn to him coming back to her hotel room was an open question. Judy was hoping that their palaver would naturally turn that way at some point, but so far it hadn’t. Was there a reason for that? Was he just not interested? Maybe he was gay. Maybe he wasn’t interested in anything outside his species. Maybe he was just oblivious like a lot of guys.

She was going to have to think of something or their conversation could go around in circles forever. Just asking directly still felt wrong, but she could dance around it just a touch, and surely he’d get the hint. “So, you want to continue the party at my place?”

Without any hesitation, he nodded.

🥕🥕🥕

The bar being right next to the hotel sure was convenient. Out one door, walk a few feet down the sidewalk in the company of a unicorn, back into the lobby . . . the clerk at the counter didn’t raise an eyebrow at her new companion. They were always paying attention, they always knew what was going on in their hotel, and yet they never cared so long as the rooms weren’t trashed, so long as there weren’t complaints. It had always amazed her at the things that hotel workers saw, a side of life of a lot of citizens that were never seen in public, and yet they very rarely found it weird.

She unlocked the door to her room and let him lead her into the room. Everything was where she’d left it, nobody had visited her room in her absence.

“So how’d you get the name Party Favor anyway?”

He shrugged. “Well, it was kind of a combination of things. I had the talent for balloon animals and balloon hats, which is how I got my cutie mark to begin with. And then in college I got passed around a lot.”

“Passed around?”

“Sure, some mare’s looking for a fun time and I’m always up for a party.”

Judy crossed her arms. “So I don’t even have to seduce you?”

“Can if you want,” he said. “I gotta say, though, I don’t think I’m going to fit . . . how much experience do you have with ponies?”

“I can get creative. I have some ideas.” She rubbed his back, running her hand down towards his tail.

He sighed and arched his back, then his focus shifted to the gear and clothes she’d left behind. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of clothes. And . . . what’s all this other stuff?” He picked up her utility belt with his magic and started fumbling with the equipment before she could stop him. The knobs on her radio were an easy target for him. As he twisted the volume knob, the radio came to life, only receiving static.

Judy knew it would; she’d tried the radio just after leaving Capper.

“Huh, an ocean noisemaker. It’s like a seashell you can turn on and off.” He lifted it up and set it on the bedside table. “I like that, it’s really soothing.”

It wasn’t as soothing to her, but if he liked it . . . and it wasn’t like it was going to transmit anything but static as long as she stayed here.

In reply, she pulled her shirt over her head. A clear message of where things should be going—and he watched her and then turned his attention to her handcuffs. “I’m not into being hobbled.”

“Those aren’t for you.” She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. “I’m . . . back home I’m a police officer.”

“Ah.” He turned her attention back to her as she slid her pants down her legs.

“I was in pursuit of a criminal when I wound up here.”

“Did you catch him?”

“Not exactly.” She hesitated, her paws on the waistband of her panties, and then pulled them down. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now; I’d rather ride your cock. I’ve got a lot of tension that needs to be worked out.”

“You don’t want to snuggle first? Groom each other?”

“I’m in a mood . . .” She hopped up on the bed next to him and leaned against his barrel, then put her hand on his head. “I’m sorry, of course we should go slow.”

“Maybe not too slow,” he said, and nuzzled her head, then he rolled over on the bed, exposing his belly—and his dick. "We can always groom and snuggle later."

It followed along late, swinging with his momentum, and struck her belly like a fleshy baseball bat.