Complain To the Manager

Shit. You look down at the rotting food tied in the bag and cringe. With a puff of anger you storm from the doorway, not bothering to close it completely behind you.

The Manager’s office is at the base of the complex in its own building. You live in a suburbs complex so the trip down the stairs is a short 3 flights. You round the corner to exit the building, then push past the door, setting your sights on the opened manager’s office.

The glass door heavily swung open to let you in. The fox receptionist looks up from her desk. “Hi! How can I help you?” She’s middle aged if you had to guess, with dulling eyes that look up at you after finishing with the computer in front of her. She looks tired already.

You stride towards her desk, and put a heavy paw on it. The fox flinches, just slightly. “Hi, my trash wasn’t picked up last night. This isn’t the only time it’s happened.” Fuck, you pick your words and tone carefully so you don’t sound bitchy. The fox’s dull eyes meet yours. “Im sorry.” She reaches for her computer screen and tilts it to hide it better from you. The then glances at it, clicks her keyboard a few times, then looks back to you. “Are you filing a complaint?”

“Yes, yes Im filing a complaint.”

“Okay…. When did this happen?” She drolls.

“…Last night.” Annoying question.

“Okay….. Who are you filing a complaint against?”

Getting annoyed you respond with a slight growl. “I dunno. Whoever takes the trash, they keep forgetting mine.”

“Okay….. and….. “ she never finishes her question. Instead she continues to type at the computer.

She keeps typing. Minutes go by, and her eyes never look back at you. Patiently you wait, but she doesn’t say anything.

Annoyance building up in you. “Hey. Hey?!” You say. Her eyes glance at you, then look back to her screen. “Hey!” You shout for her attention. The fox pulls back from her computer, and is about to open her mouth when another voice interrupts.

“Is there a problem?” From an office door on surrounding you the manager closes a door and intervenes. The receptionist looks up the to manager. “He was just filing a complaint, nothing to worry about, I can handle this.” The manager, a shiny golden Labrador Dog squints her eyes, the strides over behind the receptionist who frantically begins to click around the computer as the Manager approaches. “Yeah… I bet.” The lab says, then looks up to you. “I’ll talk with him about this. Sorry about the inconvenience. She reaches out a paw to shake yours, and you do the same. The moment you both touch it hits you like a tidal wave. Suddenly there is an ocean of hormones flooding your nose. A secret signal to males that someone is in heat. It hits you, making you daze a second while it wraps your body, coaxing your cock to grow hard.

“Mm, thank you.” You say as cool as possible. You can handle this. You are old enough. Suddenly you see her signals. Her red ears, puffy breath, and lust in her eyes. Meekly she smiles at you then looks away. “I uhhh, have…. something to do.” She says. Then hastily bounces to her office again, with you watching as she does. The receptionist couldn’t care less. Actually she’s already alone with the computer. You watch the office again, thinking of the Manager.