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"How far did you say this place was, Kyle?" Tony asked.

I finished a paddle stroke, then turned to face the snow leopard in the back of the canoe. "Not as far as we had to go yesterday. Ten, fifteen miles. It's just past the I-7 bridge," I said.

"Alright, I guess we've probably done about half that already." He stopped paddling and rested his oar across the width of the small boat while he took a drink from his bottle. The midday sun mandated frequent water breaks. "And this guy- he's an old friend of your dad's?"

"Yup." I paddled a lazy stroke to keep the canoe pointed downriver. "From college, I think. He's got a little vanity farm out here."

"Vanity farm?"

"Yeah, he likes the idea of being some kind of backwoods country homesteader, but not enough to actually do it. Basically I think he's got some cushy tech job that lets him work from home, and in his spare time he pretends he's a farmer."

"Ah. Hm, 'Vanity Farm.' That should be our band name."

I laughed. "That's a good one. I still like 'Random Bandit,' though."

Tony picked up his paddle and resumed rowing. "So... Is he the kind of guy we should, you know, keep ourselves quiet around?"

"Nah, he's more of an old hippie than anything else. He's cool with fags," I said. "In fact, I bet we won't be the only ones there tonight."

"Oh right, he's having that huge bonfire party you were talking about."

"Yup, that's why I wanted to plan this adventure for when we did. He throws a big party on the solstices. A lot of his musician friends come out, so that's gonna be fun. I haven't touched a guitar since we left; I'm kinda itching to play a couple songs. And a bunch of people just camp out on his property overnight so they don't have to drive home.

"Cool."

"By the way, I'm sorry about Farmer Fred yesterday. I swear I told my friends who lease him that land to let him know we'd be there."

"It's okay; I'm just glad you managed to name-drop the landowners before he grabbed that shotgun."

"Yeah, that almost got a little hairy. But hey, we didn't have to pay for the campsite, right?"

"Uh-huh, right. Free campsite, totally worth getting shot over," Tony said. "Hey, is that another rapid up ahead?"

"Looks like it. I don't think it's too bad, though. But see that big rock right in the middle? Looks totally clear on the right."

"Yeah, it does. To the right, then?"

"To the right," I confirmed. Being in the rear, Tony was effectively the rudder. I felt him steering the canoe to the right side of the rock until we were headed about midway between it and the right bank. But as we got closer, I got a better view of the river ahead. "Oh shit," I said.

"What?"

"I can see why we didn't see any rapids on the right," I said, feeling my voice getting frantic. "We can see the rapids on the left because it goes down gradually, but on the right it's just a drop!" By now I was digging my oar into the river to slow us down, but the current was still sweeping us towards the edge at an alarming rate.

"Do you think we can make it over if we just go as fast as we can?" Tony proposed.

"No, I think it's too high! Go to the left!"

Tony and I both started paddling as hard as we could on the right side of the boat. The canoe turned, but it was too little too late. "I don't think we're gonna make it!" Tony practically yelled.

"Keep paddling!" I called back to him. The pace of the current was quickly rising as we neared the edge. "I think we're gonna hit the rock!"

"When we hit it I'm gonna jump out and hold the back!"

"Good thinking! I'll try to hold the bow to the rock," I said. Barely a second later, the canoe crashed into the rock. I launched myself forwards onto it, holding our bow line in my paw. When I turned around, I saw Tony out of the boat as well, belly-deep in the river, holding the stern. I sighed with relief; if he had lost his grip on the boat, it would have pivoted around the rock and gone over the ledge backwards or side-on, probably dumping all our gear into the river.

With the boat and ourselves in a position we could hold for at least a few minutes, I looked over at what we'd narrowly avoided. We'd been right to steer clear of it; it turned out to be a small waterfall. "Yeah, it's a two-foot drop!" I said, raising my voice over the sound of rushing water. "If we'd tried to go over it, we would've either bottomed out and got stuck on top, or just buried the bow when we hit the bottom."

"So what do we do now?"

"Well we definitely can't go to the right," I said, thinking out loud. "And I don't think we can lift the boat over the rock; it's too heavy. So I guess we have to go down the left side." I looked down the rapids to the left of the rock. It was a much more gentle descent, and the water didn't look like it ever got deeper than my knees.

"How do you want to do it? You can see the terrain better than me," Tony asked.

I thought for a second. "Is there a line on the stern?"

"Yeah."

"How long is it?"

"It's pretty long."

"Okay, then I've got an idea," I said. "You stand up ahead of the rapids and let the stern line out, and I'll walk with the boat and guide it down. Then I'll hold it at the bottom of the rapid and you can come down."

"Okay, I think this rope's long enough," Tony said, grabbing the line out of the canoe. "Whenever you're ready."

"Alright, here goes." I climbed down off the rock and into the river. The water was cold, but against the late-June air, it felt nice. I pulled the front end of the canoe off the rock and towards the rapids on the left. "Okay, start letting the line out."

As Tony slowly payed out the rope, the canoe started to ease down the rapids. I kept pace with the bow, guiding it down and holding it fast in case Tony lost his grip. "Hold on, let me brace myself against the rock," Tony called down to me.

"Yeah, good idea." I held the boat while he waded to the rock.

"Okay, I'm ready."

We continued lowering the canoe down. The rapids were about forty feet long, but the water calmed at the end. I had to be careful not to lose my footing on the slippery stones that made up the riverbed, but my bare paws could feel out the surface well enough. At the bottom, I found the water suddenly got deeper, and I was up past my stomach. I really noticed how cold the water was then, and wished I were an otter or another aquatic species. My fox fur was not at all waterproof.

After Tony had slogged down, we carefully climbed back into the canoe and resumed paddling downstream. We took our shirts off to dry them and our fur faster, and I couldn't resist turning around to steal a look at Tony as he did it. I wouldn't've called him buff or ripped, but he enjoyed keeping himself up, and even his luxurious gray fur couldn't completely hide his musculature. It made for exactly the right balance of soft and firm; I knew this from experience.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Tony said, feigning annoyance. He wasn't very convincing.

"Aw, do I need to?" cocked my head and grinned playfully, laying my ears back.

Tony sighed, smiling. "No, of course you don't. Just so long as I can eye you up, too."

I made a show of cranking my skinny torso around in my seat. "There, how about this?"

"Yeah, that's good," Tony chuckled. "Now get back to paddling, faggot."

"Hey, maybe we should take our pants off too. Otherwise we'll get swamp-ass." I looked back at Tony, who was giving me that exaggerated stink-eye he did so well. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

A couple hours later, we rounded a bend in the river and the bridge came into view. "Alright, it'll be on the left bank. There's a little creek, and then he's got some stairs down to the water; we should be able to see 'em," I announced.

"Okay." I felt the canoe start turning to the left.

The riverbank past the bridge was high, unlike the usual gentle slope to the water. A few hundred yards beyond the bridge, we came to an indent in the six-foot-high cliff of brown clay: the creek. Just past it, I spotted the wooden flight of stairs. We tied up to the thick post supporting the bannister, put our shirts back on, and went up to ground level.

There was a narrow band of trees along the bank which opened up into a large field. At the far end was the house, a two-story with a chimney at each end, and the barn. In the middle stood a stack of wooden debris, nearly as high as the buildings, which would become the bonfire around sunset. About a dozen people were already gathered at some old picnic tables off to the side.

As Tony and I came up the path from the river, a stocky coyote got up and briskly walked to meet us. "Kyle! You made it!" He was scruffy-looking, bespectacled, and graying around the muzzle. He would have looked at home on a bus following the Grateful Dead around. Or even on stage with them.

"Yup, finally!" I said, shaking paws.

Tony then offered his paw. "Mr. McFadden, good to meet you!"

The coyote shook seized the outstretched paw and shook firmly. "Call me Gary," he said. "And you must be Tony!"

"That's me," Tony said.

"So you boys are canoeing the river, huh?" Gary said.

"Yeah, we started in Rileyville on Sunday, and we're supposed to end up in Benton next Saturday," I said.

"Wow, two weeks! That's a serious trip," Gary's ears remained perked up. "You want to pull your boat up?"

"I think it's too heavy, and we don't want to unpack everything we don't need tonight," Tony opined. "You mind if we just leave it tied to your stairs? The weather's supposed to stay clear upstream; I don't think it's going anywhere."

"Oh, I'll just get my truck and pull it up with that," Gary insisted. "That's what I usually do when I take my canoes out."

I looked at Tony. "I think our stuff's in there tight enough; if we can pull it up here for the night easily, let's do it."

"Yeah, alright," Tony agreed.

"I'll go pull the truck around, why don't you guys go down and take out anything that might fall out."

"Yeah, alright," I said, and Tony and I went back down the stairs to the canoe. We ended up taking out a couple of our smaller bags, and tying some extra lines around the remaining gear.

We climbed back up to see Gary driving toward us across the field in an old, red Ford pickup. The license plate read, "DIRT." He turned it around and backed up as close as he could get to the tree line, in front of the staircase. He got out of the truck, saying, "We're gonna pull it up the stairs so it won't be too steep of an angle." He went around to the back of the Ford and took a thicker rope out of the bed, tying it to the trailer hitch. "Why don't you go down and tie this to the canoe, and get it lined up," he said. "Give a yell when you're ready."

"Alright, sounds like a plan," I said. Down at the river, I tied the rope to the bow while Tony waded out in the knee-deep water and brought the stern around, holding it so the boat was pointed straight at the stairs. "Ready?" I asked.

"Ready."

"Alright, pull away!" I called up to the coyote above. A moment later, we heard the truck rumble slowly away, taking the slack out of the rope. The angled bow slipped up onto the steps, while Tony and I stood to the sides, guiding the canoe.

"Woah, the stern's gonna go under!" Tony said. It looked like he was right; the increasing angle of the boat was in danger of forcing the back end into the water before pulling it completely out.

"Yeah," I said, "but we can't do anything about it! We just have to let it go. Hopefully it won't take on too much water. Everything on the bottom's in dry bags, right?"

"Yeah, I think so," Tony said. We watched as the canoe was eased up the stairs, but the stern hit the shallow bottom before it could sink low enough to take on water.

We followed the boat up the stairs, watching to make sure nothing fell out. At the top, Gary opened the truck door and leaned out, saying, "I'm gonna pull it over to the side a little!"

"Yeah, okay!" I called back. Gary shut the door and dragged the canoe up the short path, then turned it sideways and pulled the boat out of the way.

The coyote killed the engine and climbed out of the cab. "Alrighty, that's good. Can I get you guys a beer?"

Tony's and my ears simultaneously perked. "Yeah, that sounds great!" I said.

Gary handed us two bottles out of a cooler. "Here ya go. I'm gonna go take the truck back."

"Alright." I said. "Thanks again for letting us camp here. Where do you want us to put the tent up?"

"Oh, I'm gonna have everybody set up over in that area," Gary pointed to the side of the field opposite the picnic tables, well away from the impending bonfire. Then he got back in the truck and drove away.

"Let's go say hi to everyone, see who's here," I suggested. Tony followed me over to the picnic tables, where the dozen or so people who had already arrived were gathered. I recognized some more of my parents' friends, and some of their kids whom I'd met a handful of times. Ralph, a fifty-something raccoon I'd met before, saw me coming.

"Hey, Kyle! I heard you might be coming," he said. "How's it going? I hear you and your friend are taking a canoe trip down the river!" A small group broke off to hear our tales of adventure.

"Yeah, we figured we'd stop here for the party!" I said. "This is Tony, by the way." As the snow leopard made the round of handshakes, I noticed another red fox who looked about my age sitting at one of the wooden tables. He looked away as I saw him, but he kept an ear cocked in our direction.

"So are you two friends from school?" asked Bill, another friend of my parents', short, slender otter.

"Yeah," I said. "Well, we knew each other in high school, too."

"Remind me what year you are now?" Ralph asked.

"Just finished our sophomore year," I responded.

"Wow, time flies," Bill said. "Victor's going off to Tech this fall; I should put you in touch."

"Tell us about this canoe trip y'all are doing," piped up Andy, a gray-muzzled wolf.

"Well, we started off in Rileyville on Monday," I said, "and we're ending up in Benton next Saturday. So it's a two-week adventure."

"Yeah, and we're camping along the way," Tony added.

"Wow, that's really cool!" the raccoon said.

"So how far are you going every day?" Bill inquired.

"Depends," I said. "Most days, we're doing like fifteen or twenty miles, but yesterday we had to go almost forty."

"Yeah, one of the places we were gonna camp fell through," Tony said. "It took like twelve hours because we had to portage around a dam too."

"Sure slept well last night, though," I smiled.

"Wow, forty miles," Bill exclaimed.

"Yup, all the way up from Grant to just past the I-50 bridge," I said. "And tomorrow we got another seventeen or so to our next campsite." As we talked, I glanced frequently back at the fox. He was certainly too young to be here if he weren't somebody's son, but I didn't see any other foxes around. It seemed like every time I looked over at him, he was turning his head away. But he always had one ear pointed at us, as if he were listening.

As the afternoon turned to evening, more and more guests arrived, most of whom I at least recognized as people who knew my parents. It seemed like all of them wanted to hear about our grand canoe adventure, so Tony and I repeated the story again and again. After a while, Gary and a few others lit up a large charcoal grill and cooked hamburgers and hotdogs, which were set out on one of the tables along with the other food some of the guests had brought. Tony and I ate with five or six of the others our age, all of whom I knew through parents. We all had that kind of relationship that you have with your parents' friends' kids; you'd probably never be friends if you weren't coerced into it, but get along alright nonetheless.

The mysterious fox was not among us, though. I caught glimpses of him standing off from the crowds as he ate a hotdog, sometimes in conversation with one of the older partygoers, sometimes walking along the tree line or down by the river, and sometimes I couldn't see him anywhere. Whenever I saw him, though, I knew he'd just been looking at me the instant before I turned my head. But he didn't give me that creepy feeling of being watched; rather, he looked shy, almost embarrassed to be checking me out. And I found that flattering.

Each time I noticed him passing close enough, I tried to catch his scent. There were now a number of older foxes hanging around, but he didn't seem particularly close with any of them, and he certainly didn't smell like any of their kin. My nose couldn't always confirm family ties for certain, but it was usually clear when there were none. And was I imagining it, or was there the slightest hint of arousal to his scent?

Tony pulled me aside when we got up to throw our paper plates away in the dented metal trashcan. "You know that fox?" he asked, flicking his muzzle in the fox's direction.

"No, never seen him," I said. I was hoping Tony wouldn't ask if I was thinking about sleeping with the mystery fox. He and I weren't exclusive with each other, but I got the impression sometimes that Tony wished we were. And while this wasn't supposed to be our little couples' vacation, he probably wouldn't consider this an appropriate time or place for me to be playing around. That he'd mentioned him at all meant he'd seen how he was looking at me. But maybe I could play it off like I hadn't picked up on it. "Kinda weird the way he keeps looking at me."

"Hm."

As dusk fell over the field, everyone gathered around to watch Gary light the bonfire. His methodology was remarkable; he'd obviously been perfecting the procedure for years. Once he'd doused the pile in kerosene, he employed two other guests to each take flaming torches and light the base from different points. As the wooden mountain erupted in flame, Tony and I had to step back to avoid igniting ourselves. I may have singed the fur on my arms a bit, but so did about half the crowd.

I noticed a number of people making their way to the barn, where I knew Gary had a bar set up. I told Tony I was thinking of heading there.

"Could you help me pitch the tent first?" he asked. "I think I'm gonna go to bed before too long; I'm tired."

"Yeah, sure," I said. It was completely dark as we rummaged through the canoe for the dry bag with the tent in it.

"Ugh, we should've done this while it was still light out," Tony said.

"Yeah, we should've." Even though we both had naturally good night vision, it was still a nuisance erecting the tent. At least after a week, we were well-practiced at it.

With the tent up, Tony went to bed, and I went up to the barn. As I walked in, Gary was pouring something for a wolf. The coyote took great pleasure in mixing new and potent concoctions for his guests. "Hey, Kyle! You've got to have one of these!" he called me over as soon as I was in the door.

I'd had a few beers since we'd arrived, but not enough to feel much of anything. "Sure," I said, sitting down on one of the mismatched, antique-looking stools.

"This one's called a Berryville Express," Gary said, pouring me a small glass of light amber liquid from his metal shaker.

I took a sip. It was a little sweet, but very smooth, and it didn't taste very strong. He must've been going easy on me, since I was technically still a few months underage. "That's interesting," I said. "What's in it?"

Gary's eyes sparkled; I knew he'd been hoping I'd ask. "Well, the special ingredient is this," he said, pulling a clear, unmarked bottle from under the bar. "Moonshine."

"Oh, wow," I said. "Like, honest-to-goodness, Appalachian-backwoods, backyard-still moonshine?"

"You bet," Gary said. "That's why it doesn't burn like regular whisky. Isn't that smooth?"

"Yeah, it sure is," I said, holding the glass up for a better look, pretending I knew what I was looking at. I was still convinced the drink was weak.

"I know the guy who makes that," Gary continued. "He lives right around here. He actually makes legal whiskey too now, but he still does real moonshine on the side."

We kept drinking and talking, I had another Berryville Express, then a couple other of Gary's 'shine-based drinks. I noticed some music had started up outside; it sounded like some people had started playing around the fire. I drained my glass and went out to go listen. I spent the short walk to the bonfire trying to gauge how drunk I was. In the dark, it was a little hard to tell if I was swaying as I walked, but I felt steady enough.

As I got closer, I could pick out the song. It was "The Weight." I smiled. Typical. Suddenly I felt my head go very light. Gary hadn't been making my drinks weak at all. I had to stop and collect myself. But after a few seconds, I decided I was still in control. I just had to be a little careful, a little more conscious of what I was doing, and I'd be fine. I'd been much drunker than this, and I'd never done anything especially stupid.

Sitting in a circle near the fire, there were three people playing guitars, a wolf with a fiddle, a banjo-playing coyote, and some sort of spotted cat playing a mandolin. I forced my eyes to focus a little better, and I saw the mandolin player was in fact an ocelot, and one of the guitarists was, much to my surprise, the young mystery fox.

I reached the musicians' circle just as "The Weight" was coming to its final chorus. One of the other guitarists, Paul, a bear who was a family friend, seemed to be leading the song. The fox and coyote were trying to harmonize on "Take a load off, Fanny," but one of them wasn't quite hitting it. When they hit the breakdown on "And...," it was clear it was the coyote who was off; the fox was singing the high notes beautifully.

After finishing the song, Paul said, "I'm gonna go get a drink," and then, noticing me, "Kyle, you want to play a little?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, trying to sound as sober and articulate as I could.

Paul handed me the guitar and went off towards the barn. It was a Gibson Hummingbird, a guitar I'd never played before. The finish was scratched and chipped; I would've been amazed if he'd let a pristine Hummingbird outside. But as I warmed up my paws a little, I found it still played very well. I also found I was still sober enough to play well. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I noticed everyone was looking at me, as if they expected me to pick the next song. This meant they either respected me, or they assumed my repertoire was limited. Even the fox didn't avert his gaze when I looked at him. I took the opportunity to introduce myself. "I don't think we've met," I said, extending my paw. "My name's Kyle."

"I'm Brandon," the other fox said, shaking my paw. He had a gentle, but solid handshake, and a high, soft voice. "So what do you want to play? Any ideas?"

"Um, you know any Rolling Stones?" I asked, addressing the whole circle. Everyone nodded and grunted in assent, except Brandon.

"Wish I did," he said. "I haven't been playing very long; I'm still kind of learning," he added bashfully.

"You want me to show you one? I'll show you Sweet Virginia; that's a pretty simple one."

"Yeah, sure," Brandon agreed.

"Alright, it's just C, A-seven, G," I explained, demonstrating each chord as I named it. I saw Brandon nodding, focused on my left hand. "The verses start on the C chord. It does that three times, and then on the fourth time it goes C, G, D, G. And there's some simple walk-ups and stuff if you want to try it."

"Okay, I'll try to play along with you."

"How about I play through the whole thing once, and then you come in?" I asked.

"Okay, sure," Brandon said.

"You know the words?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah."

"Then help me sing the chorus." I started the song, and the other musicians joined in almost immediately. Brandon watched me through the first repetition, and I called out each chord as I switched to it, then said, "Alright, land on the C." Brandon came in as I started singing the first verse. He seemed to follow the chord changes well, probably better than I would've if I were learning the song for the first time. For my part, I pleasantly surprised myself by nailing all the flourishes despite the alcohol.

When we came to the chorus, I shot Brandon a smile. He sang it just like Keith Richards, echoing me an octave above. The coyote was also singing, thankfully more in-tune this time. We went through the chords once while the fiddler soloed, then sang the chorus again. And then we ended up doing the chorus one more time before ending.

"Hey, you sounded great!" I said to Brandon.

"Thanks," he said, shyly laying his ears back.

At this point, I noticed Paul, who had returned sometime during the song, and handed him his guitar back. "This thing's nice," I said

"Thanks," Paul said. "You can play another if you want."

"That's okay," I said. "I think I'm just gonna get another drink or two, then go to bed. Long day of paddling, and another tomorrow." I got up to go.

Behind me, I heard Brandon say, "I think I'm gonna call it a night too." Not a minute later, he came up next to me. "Hey, Kyle, thanks for teaching me that song."

I felt my tail straighten out of surprise. "Oh, hey, I didn't hear you there," I said. "You're welcome. And I meant it when I said you sounded good."

"Thanks," he said. "So what's your connection? How do you know Gary?"

"Oh, he's a friend of my dad's," I said.

"Yeah, mine too. He couldn't make it this time, but I always have fun at these things, so I figured I'd show up anyway."

"My folks aren't here either," I said.

"You and your friend are stopping here on your way down the river, right?" He lingered on the word 'friend.'

"Yeah," I said. "We're on this two-week canoeing-camping adventure," I started repeating my spiel, even though I was sure he'd heard it already. We walked around the darker parts of the property for a while, making small-talk. I found out the fox was nineteen, from the county next to my hometown, had just finished his freshman year at State (Tech's main sports rival), and his favorite band was The Ramones (a solid choice).

But throughout the conversation, he looked increasingly uncomfortable. "Alright, look," he said, then sighed. "If I'm wrong here, just forget I said anything, but... is that snow leopard your... boyfriend?"

I laughed a little. "What makes you think that?"

The fox was instantly the image of humility, ears down, tail pushing through his legs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you gay or anything."

"No, it's okay," I said. "I'm pretty gay." Brandon relaxed visibly. "I take it you are too?"

"Yup."

"And yeah, I guess Tony is kind of my boyfriend. Kind of. How could you tell?"

"I dunno, I guess I have pretty good gaydar," he said, smiling weakly. "So what do you mean, 'kind of'?"

"Oh, well, I mean, we're not really dating," I said. "We've been friends forever, and eventually we came out to each other, and then started sleeping together. It was pretty much the plot of every Yiffstar story ever: high school fag comes out to his best friend, finds out he's one too, they immediately do it. But it's more of a friends-with-benefits kind of thing. But what about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

"No," Brandon said. "Not since high school."

"Well I sure can't see why," I said. He looked to his feet, shyly smiling. "Well, now it's my turn, so if I'm wrong, just forget I said anything, but I'm super bad at telling when people are flirting with me, so..."

"I'm pretty sure I'm just super bad at flirting," Brandon said.

I laughed. "Well, I'd say you're cute enough to get by anyway." He cocked his head and smiled as if he weren't used to getting compliments like that. It made him even cuter. And he started to smell a certain way that could've answered my next question, but I asked anyway: "So are you trying to have some fun tonight?"

His ears perked and his eyes lit up. "Would your snow leopard mind?"

"Like I said, we're not really dating, so he shouldn't. But he is sleeping in our tent, and it might be a little rude to, you know, disturb him like that..."

"I've got a tent," Brandon interjected eagerly. "It's right over there," he said, indicating the opposite end of the tent cluster from where Tony and I had pitched ours.

In that moment, the idea of what was about to happen finally solidified in my mind, which caused something else to start solidifying as well. "Let me get some stuff from my canoe first," I said. Brandon followed me to where the boat was, and watched as I fished around in my backpack. "Ugh, I hope it's not in Tony's bag," I muttered, before finally locating the item. "Ah, there it is."

"Boy, you sure pack well," Brandon noted, eyeing the eight-ounce bottle in my paw.

"Well, you know, when you put two fuck buddies in a tent together for two weeks, this comes in very handy," I explained with a suggestive grin.

On the short walk to Brandon's tent, I put my arm around his shoulder. I don't think he was expecting it, because I heard him inhale sharply and felt his fur bristle for a split second. And when had he taken his shirt off? But after his initial surprise, his muscles relaxed and he sighed contentedly.

As soon as I zipped the tent flap shut behind me, the little fox pulled me in for a kiss. It wasn't beautiful, loving kissing, like you see in the movies; it was just horny, desirous making-out. But it was still great. Even though I could tell Brandon was inexperienced, he was sure enjoying it.

I moved my paws down his sides, feeling his slender abdomen flex as we shifted ourselves around. He followed suit, reaching under my shirt to run his fingers though my fur.

"Hold on," I said, breaking the kiss to pull my t-shirt off.

"You look good," Brandon said, a little awkwardly.

"Thanks," I said. "You too." And he did. I was glad we both could see well enough in the unilluminated tent; I didn't want us to be silhouetted on the synthetic canvas by a lantern or flashlight for anyone to see. Although, come to think of it, some species with more acute hearing might be able to hear us, and in a few minutes, even more would probably be able to smell us. But my train of thought was interrupted when I noticed Brandon taking his pants off.

Even in the dark, I could clearly see his swollen sheath beneath his form-fitting boxer-briefs. He stuck his thumbs in the waistband, then paused, saying, "C'mon, take yours off too! I'm not gonna be the only one getting naked in here."

For such a quiet, timid-seeming guy, Brandon could sure be bold and assertive when the mood took him, which I could see and smell it very much had. "Don't worry," I said. "I'm right behind you."

Brandon's tail twitched as he giggled, "Good, right where I want you!"

I unbuttoned and removed my own cargo shorts, then pulled my underwear down my legs. As soon as I committed to the motion, Brandon slid his off as well, so that we revealed ourselves simultaneously. When we did, I could hear the fox's breathing get heavier as he eyed me up. I felt like I was already protruding from my sheath a fair amount, but I didn't want to look to confirm this, partly because it would be weird, but mostly because I was too busy staring at the similarly-erect fox cock in front of me.

"Mind if I... touch?" he asked, some of the vestigial shyness resurfacing in his voice.

"Only if I can too," I replied.

We sat down on the unrolled, unzipped sleeping bag, and Brandon extended his arm towards my crotch, hesitating a couple of inches away before finally making contact. I clenched my teeth at the sensation of the foreign paw. It's always so much better than your own, even when it's a little inexperienced. Brandon's paw was definitely the latter, as he clumsily but effectively worked my sheath back, coaxing out the red, hot length inside. To be fair, though, I didn't need much help.

"Been with many guys?" I asked. I knew I shouldn't have said it as soon as I did. I blamed the booze for degrading my ability to filter things before I said them. "Sorry, I guess that might be a little personal," I added, feeling the paw freeze.

"No. Why, can you tell?" he said, audibly concerned.

"Yeah, a little. But don't worry, that feels," the stroking started up again, "really good."

"Well, I had a boyfriend in high school. Briefly. We did stuff a few times. That's it," he said. "I take it you've got a bit more experience than that?"

"Hey now, I'm not a total slut," I said with mock-annoyance.

"Judging by your packing priorities, I'd guess you've had more sex in the past week than I have in my life."

"Come on, dude, I'm trying to give you a little confidence here," I said, smiling.

He grinned sheepishly, ears back. Damn, he was cute. Then, taking a deep breath, he said, "How's this for confidence?" then descended his head between my legs. I felt him take most of my length into his muzzle right away.

"Point_taken_," I said.

Brandon's tongue betrayed the same lack of practice as his paws, but also the same excited intent. Sitting on his sleeping bag, I leaned back, supporting myself on one arm, and let him blow me. He wasn't as smooth or methodical as Tony, but he blew me almost as if it were himself in his muzzle, feeling what I was feeling. And, us both being foxes, he had a natural understanding of where to focus himself.

I put my paw on his head. I really wanted to touch him. I wanted to let him know he was doing alright, because I could hear the little shakes in his voice and feel his little hesitations and shivers, and I could tell he was nervous, that he'd never thought in a million years he'd be doing this. Not like this, not with a guy he'd just met, not in a tent while the world went by on the other side of the thin nylon, and certainly not when he'd been the one to initiate it.

Immediately I felt the bases of his ears push back against my hand, just as eager for contact. Evidently reassured somewhat, he started mouthing me a little more firmly. His breathing changed too, his exhalations now falling into a steadier rhythm that blew through the fur just above my groin. I let out a quiet moan, as much to give some positive feedback as anything, but I very definitely didn't have to force it.

We went on like this for a few minutes, Brandon getting a better and better feel for what he was doing, and I let him know it by digging my claws into his scalp a little when he did something particularly nice, and with more soft noises. But when I felt myself getting close, I pulled my paw back and said, "Hold on, hold on, stop."

Brandon quickly removed his muzzle from my cock, leaving a thread of mixed saliva and precum from it to his lips. "Why, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, I just want to do you for a while now," I replied in a hushed voice. "Sit back and relax, foxy; you've earned this."

As I moved my head in towards his white belly, he leaned back as if I were bumping up against a force field, pushing him down onto his elbows from two inches away. I looked down my muzzle at his erection, which due to his reclining had shifted to point straight up at the peak of the tent.

The pink flesh was fully exposed, with a thin clear trail tracing down its underside. His length was maybe somewhere around average for a fox, maybe a little smaller - but what did that matter? The thing was damn cute. But nobody likes to hear their cock called that, so I didn't tell him. I wanted to show him instead.

Without moving my snout any closer, I reached out with my tongue and licked a drop of pre off his tip. His body tensed as he inhaled sharply, stifling a moan. The taste was something I'd been looking forward to. Excited for more, I slipped my lips over the end of his shaft, then kissed up and down his length, licking him and curling my long tongue all the way around it.

His knot was enlarging at the base of his erection. It had been a while since I'd been with a fellow canid, let alone another fox, and the similar genitalia to my own was another layer of excitement. Lapping at the bulbous swelling, I could almost feel on myself what I was doing to him. And if the little fox's adorable squeaks and squirms were any indication, I did have a feel for it.

"W-wait, wait," Brandon almost squealed. I didn't pull off his cock, but I stopped blowing him to let him talk. "I- I want you to... fuck me," he finally admitted.

"I think I can do that," I cooed into his crotch. "Hold on."

"To what?" he almost whispered, smiling nervously, eyes wide. He looked like a kit, lying below me as I rose to my knees, apprehension and excitement battling it out on his face. I looked down his body, down his slender, fragile-looking torso, his white belly with orange creeping up his sides, and it was almost like I was looking at a younger, hotter reflection of myself. The thought hit me for a second that he could've been lying about his age and everything else he'd told me, because he looked too cute to be a minute over seventeen. But he didn't seem like the type to do that.

I set about lubing myself up, pleased that my knot had reduced a bit since the blowjob. I wouldn't have had a chance in hell of tying the smaller fox otherwise, at least not without hurting him.

"I'm gonna put a finger in," I warned him. "Let me know if I'm going too fast or anything."

"Okay."

He was tense, staring wide-eyed down his belly to watch my paw disappear behind his own balls. My finger pushed against his tailhole, but he automatically resisted.

"Look at me," I suggested, stroking his white inner thigh with my dry paw. His fur was so soft down there. As he shifted his focus up to my face, he momentarily relaxed and my finger slipped in. Not breaking eye contact with me, his whiskers twitched as he gasped in surprise. "There we go," I soothed, and started working the digit around, spreading the slick stuff all over his insides. "This alright?"

"Yeah," he breathed. "It's good. I'm just... still kind of new at this."

"I know. And Tony always tops me, so it's been a while since I've done this too. I'll try to be gentle." I asked if he was ready for another finger. He said he was, so I eased it in, stretching the fox's snug entrance. I could feel him relaxing as I persisted. He was still looking up at my face, but I noticed he was idly masturbating. "Hey, take it easy there," I said, holding his black-gloved paw still with my other one.

He apologized, and I told him not to.

"I just want you to sit back and let me do all the work," I said, dribbling some lube straight onto his cock. Then I got to work on him.

Once I thought I'd gotten him ready enough, I withdrew my fingers from his rear.

"Are you gonna...?" the fox asked as I took my other paw off his member to reposition myself right between his thighs.

"If you're ready," I said, grabbing his legs

He hesitated for just a second, then said, "Yeah. Do it."

"Alright," I said. "Just relax, okay?" He gave me a tacit affirmation, and I lowered my body over his. It took me some awkward maneuvering to get my dick lined up right. I was almost embarrassed at how out of practice I was at topping, but then I remembered he probably wouldn't care too much. My tip finally hit home, and I pushed in.

Brandon let out a whine, and I couldn't tell if it was good or bad.

"You alright?" I asked, stopping about halfway in. "Enough lube?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "It doesn't hurt. I'm just not used to it." He smiled.

Slowly, gently, I thrust in and out, each time going a little deeper until I was buried up to my knot. It was, at this point, only slightly thicker than the rest of my shaft. On the next thrust I pushed it in too, knowing eventually it would not come back out. But for now, it slid in and out with relative ease.

When I went in all the way, Brandon moaned again, a little louder, and very clearly in pleasure. He was so warm, inside and out, and tight, because he was so small. He had the sleeping bag bunched up in his black paws, his tail sticking out from under him, swishing against the tent floor.

I picked up my pace, starting to properly fuck him. The little fox's shoulders squirmed against the sleeping bag. I knew right away I wasn't going to last very long. He was too hot, too cute for that. I wanted to show him how good it could feel. I wanted to be the best he'd ever had, and I had a very good shot at that.

Brandon reached up to his slickened cock, sandwiched between us, dripping onto our bellies. He paused, as if to ask me permission to touch himself again.

"Go for it," I said in between breaths. I became aware then of how hard I was panting, how much effort I was putting into him. And I would have liked to jerk him off too, to completely take care of him, let him just lie there and enjoy himself. But I decided to let him have at least a little control.

I fucked him, watching him paw himself as I did it, seeing his eyes screw shut and his tongue fall out the side of his black-tipped muzzle. It would've been hot just to watch. And being a part of it, my length deep inside his warm backside, my nose full of his sweet musk, was pushing me quickly to the edge.

Anyone around could have heard Brandon's whines, if they hadn't already smelled us. Half of me hoped the still-boisterous party around the fire was drowning us out; the other half didn't care, or even wanted to be heard. I certainly loved hearing his high, nearly effeminate noises, and part of me wanted to share.

Suddenly the fox cried out. I was looking straight down at his cock when his paw vigorously pumped it a few times, then went still as he began ejaculating. The first powerful strands actually hit me, the remainder falling onto his own belly and nearly blending in with the white fur there. I felt his legs tighten in my paws. He lay tense, breathing spasmodically, as if his moans had shot up in pitch until they disappeared.

Seeing Brandon cumming sent me over. It was hot how quickly he'd gotten off, how quickly I'd gotten him off. Before he was even finished, my knot finally swelled too big to come out of the fox, and I started emptying myself into his tight, hot rear.

Spent, I collapsed on top of him, landing softly on his cum-drenched chest and belly. We rolled onto our sides, tied together, and caught our breaths.

"Wow," the fox panted. He wore a mile-wide smile of contentment. "Thank you."

"Thank_you_," I said. "Hey, do you have a towel or something?"

"Oh, yeah, we can use this." He reached over and found his old shirt, and squeezed it between us, wiping as much out of our fur as he could. We both wiped our paws on it, and he tossed it back into the corner of the tent. "How was I? Was I alright?"

"You were great," I told him. "Really." I licked him on the muzzle.

"Mm, good." The smaller fox snuggled into me, his face just reaching the top of my chest. I pulled the unzipped sleeping bag over us and hugged him back. Only a moment later, he was asleep in my arms. I'd never even heard of anybody falling asleep with a dick still knotted inside them, but it was adorable. I lay there petting him, stroking him, until my erection had subsided. He stirred briefly as I slipped out of him, opening his eyes and making a happy little noise as he recognized what was going on, then shut them again. Not long later, I joined him behind the wall of sleep.

By the time the sunlight woke me up in the morning, it had already risen too high. It must've been 9:30 or 10:00, and Tony and I should've been on the river by then. I rolled over to wake him up, but Tony wasn't lying next to me. The sleeping bag wasn't even mine, and the tent was a different color. That was when I finally remembered the night before, and laughed inwardly. But my contentedness was quickly tempered by the thought of explaining it to Tony.

Well, the later I am, the more pissed off he'll be, I thought, wiggling out of Brandon's sleeping bag. My head pounded when I sat up. I was naked, which shouldn't have surprised me, but thankfully my clothes hadn't gotten lost. I got myself as presentable as I could, made sure my fur was as smoothed down as it would get, my ears right-side-out. My shirt was wrinkled and I could still smell the sex on my fur, but there wasn't much I could do about either of those things. So I took a deep breath, tried not to look hungover, and unzipped the tent flap.

Poking my snout out, I saw Tony sitting at one of the picnic tables, his back to me. I gathered my stuff and snuck over to the canoe to put it away, then made for the outhouse before heading down to the picnic tables.

I was about halfway to the tables when Tony spotted me. "Kyle! There you are, sleepyhead," he called from one of the tables. His friendly tone surprised me, but not as much as the fact that Brandon was now sitting across from him. The fox looked up from his breakfast to see me coming up to the table, and his tail swished a couple times.

"Morning," I said, sitting down next to Tony but leaving a little more space between us than usual.

Noticing my hangover-accentuated confusion, Tony said, "This is Brandon," indicating the other fox.

"We've met," I replied, once again forcing myself to look composed and comfortable. I couldn't tell if Tony didn't know what had happened, or if he was just toying with me.

"Oh really?" It could've just been my headache, or Tony's question could've had claws. I was starting to think Tony knew exactly what had happened, and was just trying to get me to admit it. I wasn't about to do that, in case he actually hadn't found out, but it meant I couldn't outright lie either.

"Yeah, we played a few songs together around the fire last night," I tried to sound casual.

"Uh-huh," Brandon confirmed. "You're a really good guitar player," he said, slightly flirtatiously. Was he in on it too? Or was he just oblivious to how bad a time this was?

"Oh, I'm not that great. Just have a little more experience," I said, regretting I had to pass on the opportunity to exaggerate the word, "experience." In fact, I was worried my verbal nudge-and-wink had still been too obvious. I glanced at Tony's face to gauge his reaction, but he looked neutral. "Sorry I slept so late," I said when he noticed me looking his direction. "We should've been getting going by now."

"It's alright," Tony said. "If we'd left already we would've missed Gary's breakfast." He shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "And speak of the devil!"

At that moment, the coyote himself sauntered up to the table, carrying a plate in each hand. "Here, Kyle, you look like you could use a good, country-style breakfast," he said, setting down one of the plates in front of me.

I wasn't hungry, but I thanked him and started eating anyway. Our conversation died away as the three of us dug into our breakfast. Between bites, I looked around the field. Most of the tents were gone, and about a half-dozen guests were sitting at the tables, while others were taking down their tents and dragging coolers and bags to where their cars were parked. They were all displaying the effects of the night before, though some clearly were in for a more unpleasant drive home than others.

Tony finished eating and said, "I'm gonna go pack the tent up."

"Alright, gimme a few minutes to finish eating and I'll help," I replied. The snow leopard got up and padded over to the tents, tail swaying from side to side as he went. Once Tony was out of earshot, I quietly asked Brandon, "Does he know I slept with you?"

The fox seemed to be caught off-guard. "I- I don't know. I didn't tell him, but... I dunno."

"Hm."

"I thought you told me he wouldn't mind," Brandon said accusatorily, pointing his fork at me.

"I said he shouldn't, not that he won't." I saw Brandon's brow furrow. "I don't think he'd be really mad, but... I mean, he doesn't need to know."

"Now wait a minute, I don't like this," he protested. "I don't want to be 'the other guy' here!"

"Look, he's not gonna be mad, I just... it would just be kind of awkward to be in a canoe with him all day if he knew." The look on Brandon's face told me I wasn't being very reassuring. "Anyway, I had a really good time last night, even without the sex. So, maybe I could give you my number and we could get together and play guitar sometime?"

Brandon regarded me skeptically. "Alright, sure," he finally said, pulling out his phone. He had nothing to lose.

I gave him the number, doubting he'd ever use it. "Well, I should go help Tony pack up. We need to get going soon." I stood up to go.

"Alright," Brandon said. "Last night was fun." I saw the corners of his mouth creep upwards. He left the sentence hanging.

"Thanks." Reluctantly, I turned to go.

Tony had almost finished taking down the tent by the time I got to it. I helped him squeeze it back into its bag, then we grabbed a few bags of ice from the freezer in the barn Gary had said we could use in our cooler. There were still a couple of stragglers who had spent the night in the barn, their sleeping bags strewn across the floor. We lowered the canoe down the wooden stairs to the river, without needing the help of Gary's truck.

After loading the rest of the loose items into the boat, we went up to the house, where Gary was on the porch, finishing goodbyes with some other guests. "You guys heading out too?" he asked as we came up the steps.

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks again for letting us camp here."

"And for the beer," Tony added.

"Oh, you know it's no trouble," the coyote jovially replied. "Especially since it's the solstice party anyway. Good luck on the river today, boys." We shook hands and headed back to the water. On the way, I looked over at the dwindling cluster of tents for Brandon's, but it was already gone.

"How far to the next spot today, Kyle?" Tony asked after we'd cast off from the bottom of Gary's stairs. I was in the back of the boat today, with Tony up front; we had been swapping positions for each leg of the trip.

"I wrote it down as eighteen miles, but it should be easy going today," I said, stopping paddling to consult the notes I'd taken for this leg of the trip. "No portages or rapids, at least not that I could see on Google Earth."

"Alright, cool," Tony said. "That's good, maybe we can make up some time."

"Yeah, sorry I slept in so late. Gary kept giving me new and exciting moonshine drinks last night."

"And I know you couldn't resist any of that," Tony teased. "I'm sure you slept nice and cozy, then."

So he knows after all, I thought. But he seemed to be reacting to it quite differently than I would've expected. He hardly seemed interested, let alone put off by it. "Yeah, but don't worry, Brandon's not quite as good at cuddling as you are."

Tony stopped paddling mid-stroke. "What? You slept with Brandon?" He turned around in the bow of the canoe to look at me, teeth bared.

"I- I thought you already knew! I mean you asked me if I was cozy--"

"I thought you slept in the barn! I knew some people did, and I saw you walking over from that direction!"

"Oh," I said.

Tony interrupted me. "What the fuck, man? You just met that asshole yesterday!"

"Hey, you weren't talking shit about him this morning!"

"Well that's before I knew he was fucking you!"

"Alright, alright," I said. "First of all, I fucked him. And second, we did it one time. You're making it sound like we had this whole long affair going on!"

"Whatever! You were having sex with him! That's the point!"

"Look, why are you so pissed off about this? You're not my boyfriend."

"Well maybe I wanted to be!" Tony yelled. But as soon as he said it, something changed. The fire in his eyes went out, his lips covered his teeth, and his fur settled.

I didn't know what to say. For a while, I'd sensed Tony being a little more protective, if not possessive, of me. And he had never liked it when I slept with other people, but it just didn't occur to me that it might be because he wanted to be more than friends-with-benefits. We'd always been friends; that's what we were, that's how I'd always thought of us. And it wasn't that I didn't want a relationship with him, I just didn't think I needed a real relationship with anybody.

We drifted downstream, through the trees and bird sounds, not speaking. Tony faced forward in the bow of the boat, resting his chin on his paws, elbows on his knees, staring out at the tree line.

"Alright," I said.

Tony swiveled around. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I said. "If you want to be exclusive, let's be exclusive."

Tony's whiskers perked as he smiled. "Cool," he said gently. "Hey, let's pull up to that island there," he pointed ahead to a small strip of land bifurcating the river.

"Okay, any particular reason?" We both dipped our paddles back into the water and started pushing the boat towards the island.

"I'll show ya," Tony teased with a playful grin. When we reached the island, Tony jumped out and pulled the bow up on the bank. "Come on," he said.

As soon as my feet hit the mud, I felt Tony's strong arms wrap me up in a hug. My muzzle rested on his shoulder.

"That's why," he whispered straight into my ear.

I squeezed him back. Tony was purring. It was adorable when he did that. In that moment, I wondered why we'd spent so long without doing this. Was I afraid to commit, or was I just too comfortable the way things were? Either way, I knew I'd taken my snow leopard for granted, and I promised myself I wouldn't do that again.

I tilted my snout up to meet his, and kissed him. Tony's muzzle was shorter and broader than mine, and it always made kissing awkward, but it didn't bother me. The challenge made it more interesting. My eyes closed automatically, and it was like the rest of the world vanished around us. All the sound disappeared, and I didn't feel the wind in my fur or the mud between my toes, just Tony's lips on mine, and Tony's arms around me. We'd never done that before, just kissed, with no intent of going further. In fact, I'd never done that with anybody.

I don't know how long we stayed like that. But when we did finally pull our muzzles apart, the first thing Tony said was, "I love you."

"I love you too," I said, looking up into his icy blue eyes.

"Fuck, I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"Well, why didn't you?" I asked, brushing his nose with the tip of mine.

"I dunno," he said. "I guess I just kinda... I didn't think you wanted to be my actual boyfriend. Like, if you'd wanted to, you would've said something. And I didn't even know if it was a good idea to date the same dude you lost your virginity to back in high school, or maybe I should move on..."

"I didn't know I wanted to be your boyfriend until now," I said. "Did you really lose your virginity to me?" I asked after a pause.

"Well you were my first guy," he said. "Remember Monica Stryker?"

"Yeah, I think. You slept with her?"

"Yup. Just a couple months before you, actually. She was kind of my last-ditch, prove-I'm-straight thing." He chuckled a little. "Did you have one of those?"

"Yeah, Toni Garrison. But we didn't really do anything."

"I think I remember her. Otter, had like three piercings in each ear?"

"Yeah, her. You know, she tried to suck me off one time, but I couldn't get hard. This was when I was like fourteen, back in that little park where Joe and Liam and all those guys would go smoke. She was coming on to me, telling me she was gonna blow me, and nothing. She starts, like, playing with my sheath, trying to get me hard, but it wasn't happening. And then I was like, 'well, guess I'm a fag!' But I didn't tell her that."

Tony laughed. "So I was your first?"

"Yup."

"So you waited until you were seventeen, and yet, look how big of a horndog you turned out," he teased.

"Hey," I said, my attempt at mock-annoyance interrupted by giggles. "We should get going," I sighed, finally releasing my arms from around Tony's midsection.

"Yeah, I guess."

I got back in the rear of the canoe, and Tony pushed it most of the way off the riverbank before climbing in and shoving off with his oar.

It was smooth sailing the whole day, and we made the campsite around 4:30. I tied the boat up and waited while Tony checked in at the office. "Good news," he said, bouncing down the slight incline to the riverbank. "We're the only ones here tonight. We're booked at Plot 10, but the manager said we can set up wherever we want."

"Dude, awesome!" I said. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Tony's whiskers twitched as he smiled deviously. "Oh, yeah," he said laconically. "We can camp at one of these plots right here so we don't have to carry our stuff so far."

"Besides that, silly!"

"I have no idea what you mean," he said in a low, seductive, feline growl. I felt myself beginning to harden at just the thought.

We unloaded the canoe and dragged it out of the river, pitched the tent, and built a fire. By 5:30, Tony and I were sitting side-by-side on a picnic table bench by the fire, talking, when we saw the manager leaving. We exchanged waves as she locked the office, then rumbled away in an old pickup truck.

I leaned over and rested my head on Tony's lap. Smiling up at him, I asked, "So, Boyfriend, now that we're alone..." I could feel his erection pressing against the back of my neck.

"Mm-hm?" Tony purred, reaching down to pet my head.

I rolled my head around, rubbing against him through his shorts. He scratched behind my ears, the motions and pressure of his fingers fluctuating in response to my teasing. It felt so nice I let my eyes close, and almost forgot what I was doing. But soon he started squirming underneath me, prodding me back into the moment with his hardness.

I drew out the teasing for a while, looking up at him as I shimmied the back of my neck against the front of his pants. He started giving me the 'Seriously?' look, telling me to take it further. But before his expression changed from amused to annoyed, I did finally sit back up and undid his button, then his zipper. I pulled down his boxer briefs, tucking the waistband under his fluffy balls.

Tony's cock was fully unsheathed. My paw was on it immediately, but so lightly I was barely touching him as I traced up and down his substantial shaft. My pads brushed over his nominal barbs, which were really just firm nodules, but sensitive. He twitched and gasped whenever I grazed them. It was adorable.

There was already a sizeable wet spot in Tony's underwear, and as he dribbled more and more pre onto my paw, the slickness let me squeeze his length more and more firmly. As I started to finally jerk him off in earnest, I played with his soft balls with my other paw. His hips began to buck, and he started moaning little mewls of pleasure. I tore my eyes away from his crotch and looked up at Tony's face. His eyes were closed, head leaned back, whiskers flat against his cheeks. It made me happy seeing him enjoying himself so much. I got plenty of sexual enjoyment out of pleasuring him, but there was an innocent, warm-and-fuzzy kind of feeling too that was somehow even better. It was because I loved him.

While Tony still wasn't looking, I leaned down over his lap and slipped his erection between my lips. He reacted with a throaty "Ooh." His paw was on my head again, giving me another way to feel his feedback, and his affection. As many times as we'd done it this way before, he seemed more loving this time. His fingers ran along my scalp more frequently instead of just resting there, and he squeezed the skin on the back of my neck with a little less pressure than usual, just enough to feel good. There was still all the familiarity, the rapport we'd spent years building; it just clicked in a way that it hadn't quite done before. And I think my muzzle was treating his cock with the same newfound love and tenderness.

I bobbed my head up and down, each time burying my nose in his soft, musky groin fur. He throbbed in my mouth as I ran my tongue over his barbs. His noises became less restrained, somewhere between a purr and a growl. Tony's voice was becoming more insistent, and his touches got heavier and less fine. I could feel his claws extend, poking the scruff of my neck, but not painfully. He was close. Maybe he'd been too pent up all afternoon to last long, or maybe I just lost track of time.

Tony warned me with an urgent squeeze on the scruff of my neck and a breathy, "Oh god, Ky." Hot cum hit my tongue and the back of my throat as his cock throbbed again and again. Reflexively, my lips sealed against his shaft, preventing any leakage. The taste was another part of the experience of sucking Tony off, and I loved it.

I kept my tongue moving over Tony's pulsating member throughout his orgasm. His familiar, growly moans came rhythmically with the spurts from his cock. Even if I'd opened my eyes, I couldn't have seen anything from my angle besides gray and white fur, and maybe the edge of the wooden bench. But it didn't matter; I knew his face well enough to picture it. Eyes shut tight, maw cracked open, whiskers flat; you might have thought he was in pain until you saw the corners of his mouth slightly upturned.

After he was spent and his body relaxed, I kept him in my mouth, teasing his head and barbs with my tongue, though more slowly and gently. I only pulled off once his erection started to fade, and reluctantly even then.

"God, Kyle," Tony panted. "That was amazing. I mean, you usually give good head, but that was... something else."

"Thanks," I said after swallowing and licking my lips. I found myself needing to catch my breath as well.

"Hey," Tony said, leaning his head onto my shoulder. "I love you."

"Love you too." And then I noticed how hard I'd gotten over the course of blowing him. But I still let him have his little afterglow moment; a cuddly snow leopard on your shoulder is worth enjoying. We each wrapped an arm around each other's backs, then progressed to petting and stroking affectionately. Tony knew the spots on my body that felt the nicest, and I knew his.

Then he did something I wasn't quite expecting: he kissed me. I kissed back, forgetting again my erection begging for attention, but only for a moment. Just as I was about to break the kiss and raise the subject, Tony did it first. "I think you still had some cum in your teeth," he said, running his tongue through his mouth.

"How do you think that happened?"

He giggled and squeezed me with his arm across my shoulders. "It's okay though, I think I'm about to get a lot more of that in my mouth." With his other paw, he poked me in the chest just below my neck, then slowly traced the finger through my fur down my chest and stomach.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that," I murmured as his paw reached the bottom of my stomach.

Tony undid my pants, and I lifted my ass so he could pull them down to my thighs. My cock had hardened inside my sheath, and my knot had even begun to swell, trapping all but the very tip inside. You can pleasure yourself inside your sheath, just sliding it around your hard-on; it's actually a fun technique for jerking off. But not as much fun as getting head, so my cock had to be worked all the way out. This is the kind of thing you get good at doing to yourself, though even then it can take some effort sometimes. But the snow leopard's practiced paws coaxed out my whole shaft and knot with ease.

Then it was my turn to put my paw on the soft head over my lap and feel the warm, loving muzzle around my cock. Despite his shorter, feline snout, Tony took my entire length into his mouth, down to my knot. I leaned back against the edge of the table, let my eyelids fall shut, and let the whole world disappear, all except for my beautiful snow leopard.

Tony seemed to know when I was on the edge. I don't know if it was my claws on the back of his neck, the rising intensity of my yips and moans, or something else that gave it away. With one paw fondling my balls, as it had been almost since the beginning, his other wrapped around my slickened knot. Then it slid down to the base of my cock and squeezed just behind my knot, and that did it. Light-headed and dizzy, I felt like I was floating above the bench as I came hard into my snow leopard's muzzle.

Again, we both took a minute to catch our breaths, leaning on each other. I noticed Tony hadn't done his pants back up, and that he was very hard again. But I didn't do anything about it; I wanted to save some of his energy for later.

We spent a while sitting there, cuddling on the bench, our tails dancing behind us under the table, bumping into each other. Somehow they got wrapped around each other, and I'd never felt closer to him.

Eventually, though, once our groins had dried some, we did our pants back up and I threw a couple more logs on the fire.

"I don't know about you, but I could use some dinner," Tony declared.

"What, that little snack wasn't enough?"

We giggled, and he gave me a quick kiss on the lips. I got a package of hot dogs out of the cooler, and we cooked them over the fire. When we ate them, Tony pretended to fellate his, and we both cracked up over it. We sat around talking for hours. It was the day after the longest day of the year, so the sun didn't go down until around nine o'clock. We watched it set over the river, and I said I thought it was the most beautiful sunset I'd ever seen. Tony agreed.

"Do you want to fuck tonight?" Tony asked. It had been dark for an hour or two, and the fire was burning down.

"No," I said, holding back a smile just long enough to see the disappointment come over his face. "I want to make love."

"You are such a fox," he said, brushing his tail against my side.

I went to the small bathhouse attached to the empty office to freshen up as best I could. While I was inside, I checked my phone for the first time since that morning. To my surprise, there was a message from Brandon.

Hey, let me know when you get back from your trip. I could use someone to jam on guitar with. Or whatever.

I smiled inwardly imagining the little fox reading the message over to himself again and again before sending it, debating whether or not to put a semi-colon-parentheses winky-face after the "Or whatever." I texted him back: I'd love to! Get home next Saturday. I think we better keep it to just playing guitar tho- unless you wanna try to talk Tony into a threesome. I put a winky-face after it. After sending the message, I turned my phone off again to preserve the battery. We'd brought a couple of those battery-powered chargers, but it was still best to use our phones sparingly. Disconnecting was part of the point of camping anyway.

With no one else around, I left my clothes in the bathhouse and walked back to our plot in the nude. The warm, thick night air breezing through fur that didn't feel the wind that often, plus the promise of the night ahead, was making my cock start to swell in my sheath by the time I unzipped the tent flap. Tony was waiting for me inside, naked as well. Lying on his stomach, a towel brought just for this purpose between him and his unzipped sleeping bag. His feet were towards the entrance, but his head was turned to look back at me. "Hello," he rumbled.

With my keen night-vision, I could see the nude snow leopard as clearly as I needed to. His broad shoulders, the creases down his back, his tight, shapely backside... Over most of his body, his fur lay neatly, hugging his sleek contours, but that spot showed off his fluffiness. That, and the long tail that he held seductively curled around to his side, the very end flicking back and forth. Feeling playful, I jumped on top of him before he could roll over. He could've pushed me off, but instead he lay there as I crawled up his back. I briefly rested my chin on his shoulder, just touching his whiskers with the tip of my nose. We were both humming and giggling, all smiles.

I nibbled his ear, and felt him purring beneath me as I started grinding against him, my hard but still-sheathed cock finding the crevice below his tail. His tail itself was now wrapped around my midsection, hugging and caressing me where his paws couldn't reach.

"Did you... want to top tonight?" he asked, turning his head as far around as he could.

"No," I said. "Not really. I was just back here, with this super cute snow leopard butt right under my junk, and you know..." I gave him a firm hump for emphasis.

Tony chuckled, then added, "Because you can, if you want to."

"No, no, no," I said. "Another time. But right now, I wanna get fucked. Hard."

"If you insist," he said with a fake sigh. On the last syllable, he sprang up, flipped over, and pinned my back against my sleeping bag. I didn't stand a chance against his feline speed and agility. Not that I was putting up a fight, of course.

We nuzzled each other, Tony's whiskers tickling my nose. I put my paws on his sides, starting just below his armpits, moving slowly down to his stomach, and then his hips. My eyes followed my paws down his body, soon falling on his erection. He was fully exposed, pink, and starting to drip onto my groin. Except for the leaking tip, my cock was still inside my sheath.

"Oh, that won't do at all," Tony said, noticing my penile predicament. He supported himself over me with one paw, and reached down with the other to slip my member free of its furry protector. It was easier this time, since my knot hadn't swelled much yet. I hummed blissfully as my sensitive cock slid against the inside of my sheath and out into the warm air between us.

Tony bent his knees, lowering his rear end down, until his shaft rested on mine. He took my length in his paw, and I reached down and wrapped my fingers around his. Then he brought his muzzle down to meet my lips. We kissed deeply and passionately, emitting muffled vocalizations as we slowly stroked and rubbed our erections against each other. It was more sensual than outright pleasurable, although I'm sure we could have finished like that if we'd kept it up.

This was new for us, this gradual escalation of things, lingering on intermediate steps rather than hurrying to the proper fucking. We'd always done a good job of focusing on each other rather than just getting ourselves off; we'd always been friends, so we cared about that. But now, we were extending it beyond the purely sexual, paying more attention to everything else. For Tony, since he had one paw occupied with my cock and the other was earmarked for supporting his body, the only other part he could focus on was his mouth, his kissing. Lying on my back, I did have a free paw, so I put it to use. It traveled around his head and shoulders, cupping his face and stroking his cheek with my thumb, then moving around to the back of his neck, then up behind his ears, then down again...

I didn't realize how close to orgasm I'd gotten until Tony's paw went still and he broke the kiss. I'd been too caught up in it all; Tony's taste, the softness of his fur, the vibrations his noises made, the pungent smell of our combined arousal. As he his muzzle off of mine, and brought his paw up to my face. He touched my cheek, not realizing how wet his pads had gotten.

"Ew, you're all sticky," I giggled, panting. I licked the fluid off my face, taking my time to put on a little show.

"Mm, sorry about that," Tony said, shifting his weight to the soggy paw and caressing me with the other one. "Alright, now where's the..."

"My bag, front pocket," I said. As Tony grabbed the lube out of my backpack, I rolled over onto all fours. Tony liked when I acted a little more faggy than I normally was, so I postured myself appropriately, sticking my ass up to give my back a nice curve. Flaunting myself like that wasn't something I did naturally, but it was kind of fun.

With the little bottle in paw, Tony turned around and saw me. "Oh boy," he whistled. "Were you always this hot?"

I blushed. It felt good to hear him say that. "I know you always have been." I cocked my head at him. "Now come on and get inside me!" I beckoned, swishing my raised tail.

"You don't have to ask me twice, hon," he replied, and leaned over to nuzzle me again. Then he disappeared from my range of vision, and I don't remember if my eyes were closed or not. The lid on the bottle clicked open, and I anticipated the initial shock of cold in a very sensitive place. It's hard to suppress the instinct to tense at that first touch, but after that, you better believe I was relaxed.

I knew it was a finger the first time; he never rushed past that part, and he certainly wouldn't now. It was the middle finger first, then the index a moment later. He rotated his paw around, stretching me out. He really took his time, sliding in and out of me with his lubed-up digits, never going quite deep enough, but getting so close that I was always certain his next push would. I diligently kept my paws off of myself; I knew I wouldn't be doing myself any favors in terms of stamina if I succumbed to that temptation. But I was sure the snow leopard must've been masturbating with his free paw; at least, I was, up until I felt it wrap around my own cock. I let out my first proper moan at that, though it was out of surprise more than anything else.

I almost didn't want the snow leopard to stop finger-fucking me, and when he inevitably did, I whimpered eagerly, wanting, needing to be filled again. He had to remove his paw from my shaft as well to get himself positioned, leaving me willing him to hurry up.

After an agonizing second or two, I felt a paw on my waist, followed by the snow leopard's cock poking under my tail. He teased me, sticking his hardness up into the base of my tail, then tracing a lubricated trail down to my balls with his solid shaft. Gradually he zeroed in, pressing nearer to my entrance, deliberately just off-center, before finally pushing through it.

I didn't even try to stifle the sound that came out of my muzzle when I finally felt the snow leopard inside me. He slowly pushed his dick all the way in, then back as far as he could without pulling out completely, raking my insides with his dull barbs. The paw that had presumably been guiding his member up to that point joined his other on my waist, steadying himself as he thrust in again, still gently.

He started to build a rhythm, even and fluid. As he increased his speed, he didn't let his thrusts become jerky and haphazard. His smooth motions had begun to hit home, too, pressing the spot his fingers hadn't reached. I began rocking back and forth, opposing the snow leopard's thrusts, pushing him to go harder. I was waiting for one paw to come off my body and start jerking me off. The pressure in my rear was building, begging for a release.

The paw finally did move to my hard, dripping cock. He wrapped his fingers around my shaft, then ran his pads over my tip, coating them in my slick pre. Then, matching his thrusting rhythm, he started pumping me with a loose grip, just enough to keep my length under his control.

Tony was now pounding me, and I was whining louder and louder. I let my arms collapse under me. Familiar with this pattern, the snow leopard seamlessly adjusted his angle, driving my face into the sleeping bag. He could really put his weight into me this way, and he did.

I felt myself rapidly building to orgasm again. Ordinarily this wouldn't have been a problem; I'd just cum and let Tony finish inside me at his own pace. But this time I didn't want to cum yet. I wanted to hold off for my snow leopard, to let him feel how much I was enjoying it right up to the end. But, and I couldn't tell if it was because his paw knew my spots that well, or just because it was his paw, but it felt like the first time anyone else's paw had been there.

"Don't," I panted, "don't let me cum yet!" I noticed after I said it that I had a mouthful of sleeping bag. Luckily my voice was too desperately loud to be muffled.

Tony's paw stopped jerking me and held my shaft tight. Except for a slight pause at my exclamation, he kept right on fucking me. It was too much at not enough at the same time. The snow leopard's cock slid through my sensitive entrance, ramming against my insides. That and the warm fingers wrapped around my member held me right on the edge. It was unbearable and perfect. I wanted to stay that way forever, yipping and whining into the sleeping bag, but I needed that little more, that release.

I didn't have to wait long. Tony's fucking reached a fever pitch, punctuated by breathy growls, and his paw started moving again on my dick. I cried out as my climax came on stronger than I thought possible, and he grabbed my throbbing cock again around the knot. He timed this well; just after my own orgasm hit, I felt the snow leopard start unloading into me. Then the world fell away again and everything was warm.

When we were both finished, there was no clinging on, no trying to linger on the last vestiges of pleasure. We didn't need to. Instead, Tony pulled out and lay down next to me. He put his arm around me, reaching up my neck with his paw, which I hoped he'd wiped off on the towel. Honestly, I wouldn't have been too bothered if he hadn't. I just pressed my face into his soft, fluffy chest, and we cuddled as we caught our breaths.

"I love you," I said.

"Love you too."

I wish we could've just fallen asleep like that, but I was feeling too sticky. So as soon as I could bear to break away from him, I pulled up a corner of the towel and wiped my softening but still-exposed penis clean, then did a cursory swipe under my tail.

"That was great, Kyle," Tony said, taking another section of towel to dry his own retreating pinkness. "I mean, really."

"Thanks. I think that was the best sex I've ever had."

The snow leopard pulled the towel out from under us and tossed it into a corner of the tent. "So you think you can manage being exclusive with me?" he asked, his tail beating back and forth, almost nervously.

I put my paw up to his face. "I'm so happy we decided to."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I said enthusiastically. "You know, I wasn't sure about it at first, but when we started making out on that island..." I tilted my snout down and looked up at him. "And then, well, this..."

Tony's smile was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. "Thanks."

We lay back down on the sleeping bag, petting and nuzzling each other. Prolonged after-sex cuddling was another new thing for us. "And the funny thing is, I didn't even think about you like this at all before," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Like a boyfriend, I guess. I guess you were always my friend before we had sex, and at first it didn't change anything, you know? We were just experimenting. And even when I noticed it started meaning more to you, I guess I just didn't wanna change who you were to me. But then you kind of forced me to, and maybe that was the little wake-up call I needed."

"I didn't force you to," Tony quipped.

"No, you didn't really." I pulled myself as close to the snow leopard as I could. "Hey, I'm sorry. I was kind of taking you for granted for a long time, wasn't I?"

"It's alright." He squeezed me, and it felt so good. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm kinda worn out, and we have another long day on the river tomorrow."

"I think I'm gonna sleep well tonight," I said.

And then it was just us, surrounded by darkness and chirping crickets and the perfect scents of each other, and I hoped this kind of perfect could last forever.