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 Connect the Sweet Spots [Jaguar; Comfy, Scratches and Massages, Intimacy]: The greatest reward a firefighting jaguar can receive at the end of a long day is coming home to her Anon for a little bit of pampering, enough to bring the little kitten out of the big cat.
 
 >It’s late in the afternoon when you get the text
 >[on my way home soon :3]
 >It’s Turrula
 >Her 24-hour shift at the fire station is finally over
 >So now she has the weekend with you
 >It’s heartbreaking to be away from her for whole days at a time, but it’s for a good cause
 >Plus, she’s never far from your side whenever she gets off work
 >At least one of these two days will be spent pampering her
 >She doesn’t demand or even ask it of you, but you’re willing to treat her well regardless
 >None of the other men at the fire station ever interested her
 >It’s mostly dogs
 >Mostly bigger ones
 >Not only is she one of the few women on the team (not even enough to fill a full calendar, unlike the boys), but she’s the only feline as well
 >However, the jaguar grew up where it’s hot and humid, so the roaring fires and the torrents of water barely faze her
 >Not to mention she’s no slouch in the strength department
 >The job came naturally to her
 >Even the Dalmatians can’t take away her title as “the best spotted firefighter on the team”
 >Turrula takes pride in what she does, though you can tell it wears on her sometimes
 >But her duties are tolerable thanks to the love you provide whenever she’s off the clock
 >So when you receive the text you have precious minutes to prepare everything
 >Lay out her favorite robe
 >Set the fireplace
 >Grab a glass for her warm milk
 >You might have time to get a meal started when you know she’s close to being done with her shift
 >Though more often than not she just brings take-out home with her
 >Turrula walks through the door with a powerful sigh
 >Usually she comes home exhausted from just sitting around waiting for a call
 >If it’s something particularly hazardous, you can be sure the news crew is tracking it
 >More than once you’ve seen your girl in action live
 >Occasionally she’ll be covered in dirt or doused in water, depending on what kind of emergency occurs
 >One time she came back looking like a black panther with all the soot on her fur
 >Today she’s a little cleaner, but that’s because she’s sopping wet
 >”Rookies”, is all she can say with a shake of her head
 >Every step she takes peels another bit of clothing from her
 >She’ll grab them eventually, but picking up for her is one more way to score some brownie points
 >She drags herself into the bathroom and kicks on the shower
 >Now’s your chance to heat the milk and finish what you didn’t get to yet
 >Kick on the music
 >Take some blankets out
 >Turrula is a fan of her showers, but you can tell this one is going to be short-lived
 >The singing is cut short, followed by the water
 >”Anon!” she calls out
 >You head over to the bathroom door
 >”I forgot my towel…” she whines
 >Technically, you forgot it
 >But she’ll never blame you for missing a step of her routine
 >After all, you’re not obligated to do any of it
 >And yet it’s that sort of commitment that has made the relationship grow tighter
 >You hand her a towel and the jaguar dries herself off
 >You’re about to leave the bathroom when you hear her whine again
 >She’s sitting on the edge of the tub half wrapped up
 >With her body partially exposed and her expectant look, someone else might have thought she’s asking for something a little more sensual
 >But after being with her for so long, you know that isn’t quite the case
 >No, THAT kind of intimacy will come another time
 >For now, she just wants you to help her dry off
 >You grab a second towel and the two of you work the fur in unison
 >Turrula does her legs while you take care of her back and head
 >She needs to leave her favorite spots for YOU
 >As you run the towel over her, she begins her process of unwinding
 >You’re not just wicking up moisture, you’re also breaking down her tension
 >Her muscles relax as you work your hands into them
 >”Mmmm…” she hums
 >You continue for a bit even after her fur is dry enough
 >You let her enjoy the moment, then move on when she wants to
 >Her royal blue robe is all ready for her
 >The jaguar ties it comfortably around her athletic body
 >You take her by the paw and lead her to the living room
 >Everything’s waiting patiently for her
 
 >The couch will be your nest for probably the next few hours
 >You get settled in, and Turrula lies down next to you
 >She places her head on your lap, and the night begins
 >You start with some simple head scratches
 >Almost immediately she falls into a hypnotic sort of trance
 >Her round ears flatten as you rub behind them
 >The jaguar doesn’t exactly “purr” like you’ve heard from smaller cats
 >But the sound that reverberates deep in her chest at your touch is as close to purring as one could get
 >Turrula bunches her body up, pulling her legs in closer
 >There’s no way she’d fit on your lap entirely
 >She always makes an earnest effort to, though
 >After showing ample attention to her ears, you move to her face
 >Her mossy eyes close as your fingers stroke the bridge of her nose
 >From her wide, rosy snout all the way up to her forehead
 >Her nostrils flare with the motion
 >This is where she really seems to start enjoying herself
 >There’s no wrong way to rub her here
 >The tip of her pink tongue sticks out from her black lips
 >It slides in and out in slow gestures, though only a bit at most
 >You press firmly with your thumb as you continue to stroke her nose
 >Sometimes her eyelids are pulled open just slightly along with your strokes
 >When they are, you can see her green eyes roll back in bliss
 >You move down the sides of her head
 >A smile forms on her face as you draw circles on her cheeks
 >Then you gently navigate through the spaces between her whiskers
 >Your hands reunite under her jaw, where the massaging resumes
 >You scratch under her chin with your knuckles
 >Then your hands flatten to rub her neck
 >She loves the scruff in the back the most
 >You can steal a quick tug at it from time to time
 >She’s told you it reminds her of her childhood when you do that
 >Turrula brings her arms up to her chest
 >Her large paws flex and knead the air
 >She’s the biggest kitten you’ve ever seen
 >Her eyes open lazily
 >You already know what she’s looking for before she can say it
 >”Milk?” she mouths silently
 >It’s still plenty warm
 >You bring the glass to her lips and let her sip at her own pace
 >Yeah, just like a kitten
 >The jaguar continues to paw at the air while she downs the milk
 >She has an adorable white mustache when she finishes it
 >You wipe the milk off, but her rough tongue is too fast
 >She licks your fingers clean, then nuzzles her head into your hand
 >The girl just doesn’t want those fingers to go a moment without attending to her needs
 >The scratches go on for some time
 >You grab one of the floating paws and work the spots between the digits
 >No part of her will go unloved
 >The shoulders are next, though you never dwell on them for too long
 >She gets frequent back and shoulder rubs throughout the normal day
 >The “kitten treatment”, on the other hand, is its own special process
 >There are much more infrequent, but you can tell she appreciates them more when they do occur
 >It’s at this point that Turrula slowly rotates herself over
 >Her head leans over your lap, now on her belly
 >She continues her attempt to fit her whole body on top of your legs
 >They’d soon fall asleep if you let her full weight bear down on you like that
 >But…you don’t mind it every once in a while
 >You move to recline on the couch fully
 >Your own head lies back on the armrest
 >Turrula immediately scoots up as far as she can go
 >Her fuzzy head nestles under your chin
 >Those large paws are folded underneath her chest, like a Sphinx
 >You can feel the nails softly burrow into your shirt
 >The jaguar still hangs off of you quite a bit, but she acts as though she could fit in the palm of your hand
 >She makes fidgeting motions, waiting for you to keep going
 >”Please,” she seems to say without so much as a word
 >You’re happy to indulge
 >You massage down her spine, giving her pleasure even through her bathrobe
 >Her shoulder blades roll with the sensation
 >When you travel farther down her back, then the kitten truly comes out
 >Is it an instinctual thing, or something she just imitates?
 >Whatever the case, she relishes it
 >As your hand glides down toward the base of her tail, her rump lifts into the air
 >It drops when you reach the end, only to rise once again when the next rub approaches
 >Again and again you stroke down her back
 >Her tail curls along the journey
 >And once you hit the sweet spot, it flicks up rigidly
 >This is her meditative element
 >Eyes closed
 >Tongue poking out
 >Paws kneading your torso
 >The rumble of her chest resonating through your body
 >Her legs rubbing together to stay on your lap
 >And her long, graceful tail swaying in time with everything, like a metronome
 >The heat of her body keeps you warm
 >And the crackling fire keeps her warm
 >As does your love
 >You’d think the last thing she’d want to see at the end of her shift fighting fires is to see flames dancing in the corner of her eye
 >But she knows when they’re meant for comfort
 >Just as she knows when she’s safe in your arms
 >Turrula is very much like the fire herself
 >There’s the strong, stalwart jungle cat in her when she’s on the job
 >But under that spotted fur coat is just a little kitten at the end of the day
 >The way things are going now, you’ll likely be on the couch for the night
 >You’ll get the use of your legs back in the morning
 >Maybe they’re already falling asleep, but the longer you have Turrula on your lap the lighter she seems to be
 >Her tail satisfied, you slowly work your way back up her body
 >Up the spine, along the neck, and finishing with her head
 >You scratch behind those cute, round ears to lull the jaguar into a peaceful rest
 >Though not without receiving a heartfelt, “I love you, Anon.”
 >From your Turrula, the biggest kitten you know