Emily Attwater retired to her dressing room to shower off Stephan's otter-cum splotches but before she could slip free from her jizz-soiled shirt-top, a small timid knock rapped upon her door.
"Who is it?" Emily asked. She froze in place, awaiting a response. The room was cool and well-furnished, crisp with air conditioned comfort.
"Willy. I'm the, uh… boom mic operator."
Emily cocked her brow, perplexed and curious.
Why would he want to talk to me? Huh. Well, better not act rude. He is a part of the crew, after all, and the film crew is like a second family.
"Oh, okay. Hang on just a second!" Emily said.
"Take your time." Willy said, voice made hollow against the door.
Emily put on a pair of sweatpants with hasty elegance. She slid her bristly-furred otter-girl legs through the leggings, poking her webbed foot-paws through ankle-holes and popping her tail out of a large designated hole in the back. From outside, Emily heard commotion and lunch-break bells, conversation all along the outside hallway, ringing phones and laughing. Somebody gave Willy props outside for holding it together and the cheetah responded with a nervous tone of voice. 
"Hang on, Willy!" Emily called out. She removed her purple tube-top shirt and flung it into a straw-woven hamper basket, grabbing a Cocoa Puffs T-shirt strewn over the edge of her folding chair's backrest (complete with her name stenciled on the rear) and slipped it on. She cleared her throat, took a sip of hot tea from a small mug residing upon her lamp-illuminated actress station and looked at her reflection in a large arch-shaped mirror. She flung a lock of bangs free from her forehead, removed the spherical pink clamps from her long brown hair and shook her head, primping her hair with her finger-paws. She nodded in affirmation at herself, winked at her reflection and proceeded to answer the door.
~
Willy stood nervously shaking, feline foot-paws touching at the toes, hand-paws fidgeting themselves, head cocked at an angle and eyes gazing away from Emily as she poked her head through the doorway to greet him. 
"Hey, Willy! What's up?" Emily asked the cheetah, heavily intimidated and emotionally overwhelmed.
"Uh… I don't wanna seem out of line, and you can gladly tell me to get a life if you want, I won't be hurt, but… but, um… uh…"
Emily smirked and opened her dressing room door wider. "Would you care for some hot tea? I don’t mind a little company."
Willy finally gave in to impulse and glanced up at the otter-girl, staring wild-eyed. "A-are you sure?"
Emily nodded, grinning. "Yeah! Come on in, bud. Take a load off."
Willy's lower lip trembled and he nodded, shuffling into Emily's dressing room. She cast a glance down the hallway, looking left and right, before she gently closed the door. Inside her room a small smartphone speaker component was playing Prince tunes. A small bunch of candles perched upon the windowsill illuminated a corner of her room, casting a dull orange glare mixed with the setting sun. Willy sat down upon a slim futon sofa located against the farthest back wall of her room, causing the frame to creak on its hinges from his applied weight. Willy crossed his finger-paws in front of his lap, hoping to hide his cum-stains from the fapping session he'd endured earlier, mere moments after having captured the ultimately fine-ass take between Emily and her otter co-star, Stephan. The production screamed fake incest fantasy roleplay but damn, did they exceed at conveying their designated characters with dedicated realism. So much, in fact, that as Willy sat in a portable toilet stall, stroking his barbed penis, he could literally hear Emily's sweet, angelic voice in his head, begging Daddy for more dick, for a harder and deeper fuck. Willy came his ass off, drenching his hand-paw, thighs and his black work-slacks, unfortunately. The stains showed up like paint blemishes upon a blackboard. As hard as he tried to wipe them off, spitting on his thumb to rub saliva against the crusting sperm-marks, it simply didn't work. He decided to keep his palms pressed over the marks, so as to save from any sloppy embarrassing run-ins. 
Emily poured a fresh cup of green tea for the cheetah boom-mic operator, smiling graciously as she handed him the piping hot liquid in a ceramic mug. He nodded with a smile, a gesture of thanks. When he reached up to grab the mug, Emily caught a sight of jizz-stains on his lap. She remained silent, blushing furiously and resumed her natural order.
"So what'd you think of that last scene we just filmed?" Willy spat a small mouthful of tea back into his mug, having already taken a sip. Emily giggled. "Oh, that good, huh?"
Willy wiped excess fluid from his fur-tufted chin and placed his mug down upon a small coffee end-table resting against the edge of the futon-sofa. "It was… really good! I mean, solid work! From both of you! You played the, uh… daughter role… very well. I mean, if I had a daughter like you, I'd probably find it hard to resist such… tempations, and… oh, what am I saying, jeez." Willy sighed miserably, pressing his wrists up against his eye sockets, rubbing his face, fraught with solid embarrassment. "Sorry, Ms. Attwater." 
Emily knelt down besides Willy and grabbed his hand-paws, caressing them in her grip. Willy's heart throbbed radically in his chest, legs tingling, short of breath, mouth frozen in a rictus of shock as he looked up into her eyes, sharp and intelligent and filled with affectionate understanding. He couldn't even remember how long he'd had the kitty-hots for Emily. 
"I understand what you mean, Willy." Emily remarked, placing his hand-paws down upon his thigh. Her fingers were so warm to the touch, it was uncanny. Emily stood upright and went to the mirror to rub off excess makeup with a dampened washcloth. "Thank you for the high praise! I'm glad that I was able to portray a naughty daughter while staying accurate and believable. I gotta admit… that chair gave me a bit of a leg cramp before Stanley wrapped the shot up." Emily said, rubbing at her thigh, emphasizing her point. Willy scoffed, nodding agreeably.
"Yeah, my arm was pretty much numb from holding that dumb mic post. They're heavy and sway a lot, but I've been working on 'em for a long time, so I should be used to it by now." Willy said, chuckling with his pink tongue protruding free between his shart cat-teeth, grinning playfully. Emily smiled, nodding with comprehension. She splashed her face with water from a basin-bowl and rubbed the hydrating fluid against her fur, dampening her otter-pelt, relaxing and stretching far and wide. 
"So is there a real reason why you decided to come see me, Willy?" Emily asked the anthro cheetah-guy. His ears perked up, facing her direction, his tail fur ruffled with static discharge and his hand-paws remained locked in place upon his crotch.
"Not really, just wanted to check in on you and, uh… see how you were doing, that's all." Willy said. Timidity caused his voice to crack upon the last few uttered words, driving a wedge of self-distraught into his mind. Willy silently cursed himself for acting so dumb around a young otter-girl he'd obviously known and worked alongside for a while. Still, that hankering sensation of stupidity in bad word choices ate away at him, spewing incredible feelings of humiliation and shame into his heart. 
"You don't have to hide anything from me, you know." Emily said.
Willy gave a very visible start, nearly flinching six inches over from where he sat in place. "Whu-huh-what???"
Emily giggled, spinning upon her heel, facing Willy. She regarded the cheetah with sultry, coy eyes. As she walked towards him, her hips gyrated in a gait of sincere flirtatiousness, causing her tail to sway behind her butt like a big fuzzy rudder, a fifth limb, a shark's dorsal tail-fin. "Willy, I know you couldn't keep your composure while you were in the studio today. I saw you from the corner of my eye, man! You totally creamed your trousers."
Willy's brain performed a Nollie-heelflip and damn-near crashed on the spot. "Uh, I don't know what you mea-"
Emily cackled aloud, cutting Willy off before he could finish his innocent-yet-foolish fibbing lie.
"Dude, you don't have to be nervous! Or embarrassed. We're in the porn industry here, man! People are usually quite unreserved around here! Just come clean and be honest with me. Did you… y'know… masturbate after the shoot was over? I think you did because I think I saw some sperm marks on your lap, but that could be just spilled yogurt or something. I won't know until you tell me though! You don't have to feel embarrassed."
See, my dear, that's where you are dead wrong! I am, in fact, trifled with embarrassment! I'm literally apt to implode as a direct result of your heavy on-set advances upon me and my personal business! I fapped off so hard to you and came so wildly while imagining your legs wrapped around my head and your thighs pressing against my cheeks and my rough-textured tongue lapping away at your sweet otter-girl folds that I couldn't even begin to comprehend how amazing the sensation of that fantasy was! Please just let me go so I can tend to whatever business needs to be tended to since this was a dumb idea to even bother coming here in the first place, especially with my pants soaked in jizz stains, oh what a dummy I am! Stupid! Stupid! Stu-
Willy now felt as if he were put under the gun, felt his neck itch and his eyes water and his limbs tingling with entropy from wrecked nerves. Emily propped her fists against her hips in a swanky feminine-perfected strutting pose, brow curled crookedly, smiling at the cheetah crew-member with liberating finesse. He couldn't sustain his true feelings anymore, not when she had been so open and direct with him. So Willy breathed deep and exerted his true intentions, risking everything in the process - his working friendship with Emily, his job and established seniority position… hell, even his own sanity and well-being.
"EMILY ATTWATER, I HAVE WANTED TO MAKE SWEET LOVE TO YOU FOR THE LONGEST TIME, FOR AS LONG AS I'VE KNOWN YOU, EVER SINCE I SAW MY FIRST DVD OF YOU IN THAT ONE FURRY FEVER ISSUE THAT I CAN'T RECALL BY NAME RIGHT NOW BUT THAT DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE I STILL WANT TO MAKE INCREDIBLY PASSIONATE LOVE WITH YOU AND SCREW WHAT ANYONE ELSE THINKS OR SAYS BECAUSE MY NAME IS WILLY AND I HAPPEN TO FANTASIZE BEING WITH YOU EVERY NIGHT AND YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND NOBODY SHOULD EVER ABUSE YOUR TALENTS BY HIRING SOME DIRT-BAG LIKE STEPHAN TO TEND TO DAUGHTER-FUCKING PRIVELEGES AND, AND…" 
Willy gasped, exhaling deeply. He couldn't even manage to catch his breath. His lungs felt parched, dissipated, shriveled up like freaking dried prunes. Finally, he resumed a steady breathing pattern. He kept his eyes shut, big hand-paws resting upon his knees, sat down on Emily's dressing-room futon sofa. He inhaled a sickly-sweet scent of hairspray, deodorant, sushi and feminine musk, sweet and salty. Steady streams of conversation came to a screeching halt just outside the door as crew members heard Willy's exasperated wailing confession, wondering if he wasn't just helping Emily with rehearsing lines for a new production or something. The air still felt crisp and cool, despite Willy's triple-digit pulse coursing like crazy junkie adrenaline through his veins, rendering him light-headed and dizzy. When consciousness seeped back into his being and the fluttering sensation took a flying fuck of a hike, he opened his baby-blue eyes and looked at Emily. Her eyes were wide and blank, mouth opened wide with her lips stretched into a perfect ring, entire body frozen solid like a statue, a gargoyle, a wax-museum-created Emily clone. Willy grinned wide, shrugging. 
"…and I found your performance so amazing that yes, yes I did indeed fap off after the shot wound up. I fapped very hard and very fast, in the smallest and ultimately smelliest port-a-john out there. When I reached a climax, I came very heavily. Not for Stephan, but for you. You, Emily. You. I… I admire you, Ms. Attwater. Truly I do. You are a shining star and one of the finest actresses I've ever had the pleasure to work with. I'm truly fortunate to admit to others that I hold a boom-mic over your head for a living. Now if you want to kick me out of your room for being a perverted and unreasonable bastard, feel free to do so. I don't mind one bit. I've faced rejection more than once in my lifetime and I can certainly tolerate facing it again if need be. But if I didn't ever admit those things to you, I know for sure I would've gone completely nuts and acted out in rage and risk getting shit-canned and fired on the spot, replaced within twenty-four hours with somebody else, maybe a human or a canary or someone with far more experience in this field of work than myself, forgotten and aband-"
Emily sat down beside Willy and wrapped her hand-paw around the cheetah's muzzle, silencing him. She grabbed the back of his head with her other hand-paw and brushed her fingers through his blonde hair. 
"If you felt that way about me, you should've just come out and admitted it to me, silly." Emily said, giggling in a cute girlish tone. She leaned in and kissed Willy's nose, causing his tail to jerk sporadically against the futon sofa's armrest, damn-near tipping his tea-mug over onto the floor. She winked and leaned across his lap to grab his mug. When her belly pressed against Willy's lap, he felt prone to grow another fresh erection and fire off a few blanks in Emily's name. Instead, she sat back upright and held Willy's tea in front of him. "Have a drink, man. You must be parched." Emily insisted, grinning favorably. Willy snapped out of his frozen paralysis and grabbed hold of the mug with both hand-paws, chugging the liquid, swallowing his tea by entire gulps, soothing his throat, moistening his tongue, refreshing his senses with each hefty down-pouring intake. Emily laughed, crossing her legs, patting Willy's shoulder considerably, very friendly in nature. "Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna take a quick shower and wash Stephan off my body because between you and me," Emily leaned close against Willy's head to whisper into his ear. "…his semen stinks like roadkill." Willy whooped out loud and hollered with boisterous laughter, clapping his hand-paws and kicking his legs out in front of him. Emily guffawed hysterically at how heavily Willy laughed at her legitimate opinion. "Well, he does! No offense, but dang! Maintain a better diet or something, jeez!" Emily scoffed and snickered, itching at her nose. 
~
After she'd showered up and gotten clean once more, she invited Willy to stay for a bit longer, to keep her company. And that's exactly what he did. Emily gave him a good pointer for removing his cum-stains from his slacks. He explained to Emily why some guys have smelly jizz and others have sweetly fragrant jizz, which left the otter-girl in an amused state of "eureka!"-laden understanding. They shared their experiences in the adult film industry, some good and some bad, laughing over their numerous mishaps and learning-curve trail & error moments. Emily brewed more tea, Willy showed her his hand-standing techniques and they danced to The Beautiful Ones, all while solidifying a working friendship all the more stronger. Now that Willy had come clean with his feelings, he felt liberated and completely relieved. Emily also discovered so much more about a fellow crew-member of hers than she could ever have imagined before. They enjoyed the pleasure of each other's company until a knock came rapping upon her door. Emily turned the music down and Willy plopped down upon the futon cushion, out of breath but smiling wide, thoroughly entertained. She answered the door to Stanley, who had come calling on her to return back to set for another shot with Stephan, for a different position idea that had been brainstormed, now prepared and ready to re-enact. Emily nodded, patting Stanley's bony shoulder, then shut her door again and asked Willy if she should wear the green or purple lipstick. Willy suggested none at all, that her natural lip color was better than any pigment imaginable. Her otter lips curled up into a sweet, grateful smile and she helped Willy to his foot-paws, so that they could return back to work, now with a far more intact understanding of each other than ever before. 
"Go knock 'em dead, Ms. Attwater!" Willy said.
"Willy?" Emily said. Willy froze, looking at her stern expression, immediately feeling guilty. Oh great, he'd offended her somehow. "Call me Emily, goofball. I swear, 'Ms. Attwater' makes me sound like a crusty old otter-woman. 'Kay?"
Willy smiled with hilarity, snorting. He nodded. "Sure thing… Emily! Have fun with Mr. Smells-so-good, okay?"
Emily rolled her eyes. "Fat chance. Maybe if I hold my breath casually."
Willy cackled aloud with sporadic chuckling. They slapped each other's hand-paws in a high-five and proceeded to their designated work-stations, ready to continue making Furry Fever film-making history.
END