Sexycat

For some reason, I rope myself into pet sitting for mentally deranged animals. The latest adventure included a bout with an orange tomcat named Roux. Roux came to me one afternoon bearing a blood curdling meow and a sparkly collar. At first glance, he seemed nice enough; he would occasionally come up to me for a pat on the head and politely let me know when he was hungry.

And then he got comfortable. I mean, reallllly comfortable. It happened one night when I had returned home late from work. As I sat on my couch checking email, he siddled up next to me and all of the sudden I felt something dripping on my leg. The cat was drooling. AS far as I am concerned, cats should not drool.

"Ew!" I said, pushing him away. Oh no, he was not phased. Not unlike a typical Scottsdale bro, sans the v-neck though, He kept throwing himself at me, in the most literal sense of the word. However, to Roux's credit, his meows and drool were much more pleasant than any form of conversation/advances attempted by barside lurkers.

As days turned into nights, I had to develop a new routine for barricading my bedroom door. I did not have to do this until one fateful day when, after spending some QT at the pool, I had decided to take a quick nap. Just as I began to doze off, I felt something on my leg pushing my dress up.

"Oh my god!" I screamed. The cat, who at this time rightfully earned his new name: "sexycat", was trying to sexually assault me within the supposed safety of my own home. I was disgusted. How far did he think he would get with me? Did he really think I was that type of girl? This was the most perverted cat I had ever encountered, even worse than Besos, a former roommates' big, white cat that would hide in the closet of my room to watch me change.

Because of this incident, I found myself hastily stacking chairs, brooms and other assorted items outside of the not so secure french doors that led into my bedroom. For roughly the first 20 minutes of the night, I would be safe and then, no matter the combat strategy I provided, Roux would slide his pay under the door and jimmy the latch. Additionally, he was on the talller end of cat heights and could reach up to turn the door handle traditionally designed for humans. Roux's height, horniness, and harassing nature were a triple threat and my bedroom door was no match. I was beginning to contemplate purchasing a chastity belt.

After roughly five weeks of Sexycat's advances, his time with me came to a halt. On the night of his departure, I returned came home after happy hour with my boyfriend and his friend only to realize I had left my bedroom door open. This could only mean one thing: Sexycat was in my bed.

Sure enough, he was on my bed. What I was not expecting to find, though, was that he was also face down in the cup of one of my bras rubbing his head back and forth. Yes, he was motor boating my bra, quite fervently to say the least. Because he is a cat, he could not make the side effect noises, but I am sure he was thinking them.

"Oh my God!" I yelled, shooing him off my bed. There was, of course, a large deposit of drool in my left bra cup.