Rekindled
#7 of One-Offs
Ok, so Hurricane Nate is knocking on our door so I'm uploading this guy as quick as I can. This took quite a bit of time, and I had to tap into my own high school experiences in the early 2000s. Of course, that means I listened to quite a bit of Slipknot, Panic at the Disco, and Yeah Yeah Yeahs while writing.
"Shit," Cal uttered to himself as he felt the first fat raindrops that'd been threatening to fall all day plop onto the top of his striped head. The tiger hitched his backpack up, switched his gym bag to his other hand, and quickened his pace. He'd never considered being thankful he lived so close to his high school --roughly 5 blocks of suburbs and a small strip of woods separated them-- but he certainly was now. Of course he'd rather drive the short distance, but he'd been grounded from using his car by his parents for sneaking out of the house a few weekends ago and they'd hidden the keys from him. He thought they'd have mercy on him since they'd be gone all weekend, indeed they'd already left before he was even up this morning, but no such luck.
A brisk breeze rustled the leaves of the wooded area and chilled his muscular body. He was still sweaty and somewhat stiff from football practice so it felt fantastic; he couldn't be happier there was no game that day, being the star linebacker could really take it out of you. The after-parties were even more exhausting! He often went to them, but only because it was expected of him. He wouldn't admit it but he was actually looking forward to a whole weekend by himself to just relax and recharge.
He was snapped out of daydreams of a joint and a hot bath by two things: the increase in frequency of the icy-cold raindrops, and a cacophony of malevolent-sounding laughter, punctuated by cries of pain, a bit further in the trees. He followed the noises, hiding his broad body as well he could behind a thick tree trunk as he came upon the scene of the disturbance. In a small clearing, not far from where he was hidden, stood Randall, the school bully and resident psychopath, his two cronies Pat and Henry, and a rotund racoon laying prone on the dirt --which was rapidly becoming mud-- ground! They'd apparently torn the figure's shirt off for whatever reason as he was barechested, and were standing around laughing at the form curled up in the fetal position, aiming an occasional kick at his flabby torso, mocking the pained, labored cries they produced.
Cal was so startled it took him a moment to realize he knew the raccoon; it was Gene, a childhood friend who lived a few blocks farther from the school over the train tracks! They'd been good friends all the way up through elementary school, but, as was always the case, once they entered into the more click-oriented world of junior high they'd grown apart. He, the son of a doctor and an art dealer who showed a great aptitude for sports had been elevated to the upper echelon of the school hierarchy, while Gene, the nerdy son of a drunk single father who could barely make ends meet as a general handyman, had sunk to the bottom. It shamed Cal to think how he'd essentially abandoned the racoon for the sake of status, but in truth that wasn't the only reason.
When they were very young, before either of them really even had any idea was sex and sexuality was, Cal knew he had certain feelings for the short, round mammal. As they grew older and 'gay' became a common schoolyard insult the tiger became more and more self-conscious about it. Eventually he started fading Gene out, hoping it would change things. He'd even garnered a reputation as he entered high school as a lady's man, though if he were being honest with himself every time he'd gone all the way with one of the many females always crowded around he'd had to squeeze his eyes closed and picture other guys to make it through. He especially liked to picture his old friend.
As much as he wanted to dash over and help, and despite his size and strength, he knew three versus one just wouldn't end well, so he was forced to stay in his hiding place. Luckily, it wasn't long before the violent trio both lost interest in the quivering, prone form on the ground and wanted out of the rain. They wandered off, braying laughter and calling back insults, and Cal was finally able to run over and drop to his knees beside him. He sucked air in through his teeth as he got his first close look. It was hard to tell just how bad the beating was thanks to the rain and mud matting his fur, but his snout was very clearly swollen, blood dribbling from his nostrils, and one eye was swelling.
"Gene, buddy," he said questioningly, gently resting a hand on the racoon's bare shoulder.
The beaten mammal opened his good eye as much as he could, "C-cal?"
"Yeah buddy, it's me. We need to get you outta here in case they come back, can you stand?"
"I...I can try."
With help from the tiger he was able to slowly make his way first to his knees, then to his feet, groaning with pain and clutching his sides. Cal shrugged off his letterman jacket and wrapped it around the raccoon's shoulders before leading the limping mammal back to the path that ended right across the street from his 2-story house. By the time they made it to the front door it was dark and the rain was pouring, thoroughly soaking the both of them. They tracked puddles through the foyer as they entered.
"We need to get you cleaned and warmed up," Cal said, leading the racoon to his bathroom.
"N-n-no, I'm o-ok n-now, I c-c-can make it b-back home n-now," he said, shivering.
"Dude, come on, you're crazy if ya think I'm gonna let you walk back to your place in this state."
The bulky tiger turned the knob in the shower until it was steamy hot then turned to face his former friend.
"Ok man, hop on in. Just leave all your shit in a pile outside the door and I'll wash it. There's a robe on the back of the door you can use."
He left the racoon to it and walked to the laundry room, prepping it for the small load to come, the went into his bedroom to change out of his wet cloths into just a pair of plaid pj pants. He returned to see what remained of Gene's cloths, plus his own jacket, laying outside the door as he'd asked. He couldn't stop the blush that heated his cheeks at the chubby mammal's underwear near his face as he picked up the pile, adding it to what he was already carrying. He placed everything in the washer and turned it on before flopping down onto the couch in the living room, leaning his head back against the cushions.
He was on the verge of drifting off when he heard to the door to the bathroom open. As he lifted his head back upright he had to stop himself licking his lips at the chubby racoon padding softly into the living room wearing his robe, arms crossed in front of himself and head down. The robe hugged his big belly wonderfully, and Cal could stare at his thick, trunk-like legs for hours. He certainly looked much better now that his light brown fur wasn't caked in mud and blood wasn't dripping from his snout, but it was still clear he'd been beaten. He was still limping, his muzzle was slightly misshapen, and though you wouldn't be able to tell from the color because of the black mask pattern of his fur one eye was definitely swollen.
"You ok, buddy?"
"I'll live," he muttered, standing on the other side of the room.
A short, awkward silence permeated through the room before Cal broke it, almost more out of nervousness than anything else.
"So, you think maybe we should get you to the hospital, get you checked out? I can't use my car but I can get an Uber over here for us?"
"No," he said, still not looking, "I'd rather just go home. And I'll walk."
"Can't your dad come get you?"
"He's not there. He's started working offshore about a year ago, two weeks here and two weeks there kinda thing, and he won't be back until sometime next week."
"Wait, so you've been alone that often for that long?"
Gene shrugged, "I'm use to being alone."
Cal fought back the pang of guilt in his chest as he got to his feet and walked over to where the timid racoon stood.
"Well, you don't have to be alone tonight," he said, gently resting his hands on his friend's shoulders. "My parents aren't here this weekend, why don't you stay here tonight?"
"What," he replied, looking up for the first time. Cal thought he would happily swim in those beautiful, brown eyes looking back at him.
"You heard me, stay here."
"What if one of your friends saw me here?"
Another deep stab of pain in his chest.
"Don't worry about all that, just stay.....please."
Gene didn't answer right away, opting to looking down again for several moments.
"Ok," he said quietly.
A small smile split the tiger's maw," Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Cal wrapped his muscular arms around the shorter fur but quickly let go as he gave a a gutteral grunt of pain.
"Well," he said, leading Gene over to the couch, "if you won't see a doctor, at least let me check you out. You know, make sure nothing's broken or you don't have a concussion."
"No offense, but how would you even know how to do that?"
"Hey, my dad IS a doctor, remember? He insisted I get some pretty thorough First Aid training just in case."
"Oh, o-ok, I guess that makes sense."
As the racoon sat down, slowly and stiffly thanks to the pain, Cal went and retrieved a First Aid kit that was better stocked than most hospitals from the kitchen and brought it back. He used a pen light to check the raccoon's eyes and confirmed concussion wouldn't be an issue, then very lightly ran two fingers along the bridge of his nose to make sure it wasn't broken. He could tell Gene's ankle was a sprain just from looking at it, so as much as he wanted to touch those stout legs he didn't bother, instead moving on to the potentially awkward part.
"Ok man, now I need ya to, um, open the robe up a bit."
"What?! Why?"
"So I can check your ribcage."
He seemed to clutch the robe tighter rather than loosening it. The tiger understood the problem right away.
"Dude, I know I'm just some meathead jock, but I promise I'm not gonna laugh or make fun of you."
Gene, seemingly reassured, slowly loosened the terrycloth belt and spread the garment open a bit. The tiger reached in and gingerly began palpating along his sides, keeping a wary eye on the raccoon's face, monitoring for any signs of pain. Though he had to admit, it was hard to keep up such noble intentions as he hands touched along his friend's body. He was so soft and squishy, the linebacker was finding it difficult to not pounce upon and ravish him right there.
"Ok, man," he said, using every bit of will power to drag his huge hands away from the object of his desire, "I don't feel anything broken. You're probably just bruised up real good."
Cal reached back into the kit, trying to keep his eyes off the fluffy white fur of Gene's chest, and grabbed a pill bottle, shaking two out and handing them and a bottle of water he'd thoughtfully brought from the kitchen to the raccoon.
"What are these," Gene asked, taking the capsules in his black-furred hand.
"Basically a stronger version of Tylenol, they help with the pain and swelling."
The raccoon popped them in his mouth and, with help from the bottled water, swallowed them. Cal excused himself and walked back into their kitchen, scooping some ice into two plastic baggies, one the smaller "sandwich" size and the other the larger gallon size, and brought them to Gene. The tiger gasped softly, a stirring in his groin, to see his friend had dozed off and the robe had spread open enough to show a decent portion of his heavy white belly.
"Hey buddy," Cal said softly, giving his shoulder a gentle shake. The raccoon's head snapped back to attention and his pudgy arms instinctively crossed in front of him, cutting off his view of his tummy.
"Sorry," he said, a hint of sleepiness in his voice.
"Don't worry about it! You wanna go lay down for a little while?"
"Actually yeah, that'd be great."
The tiger, still holding the bags of ice, took Gene into his room, turning on a tiny accent light so the room wasn't pitch black. He helped the beaten mammal climb up onto the large, cushy mattress, trying his hardest to be a gentleman and not steal any glances of his body under the robe. Once the raccoon had found a comfortable position he slid a pillow under his sprained ankle before settling the large, gallon bag of ice on top of it. He set the smaller bag on his blackened eye.
"Ok, you just relax and I'll check on you later," he said, heading towards the door.
"Cal," came a timid voice from behind him.
"Yeah?"
"Would you....nevermind."
"He come on, what?"
"Would you, maybe, stay here with me? Just for a little bit?"
Cal smiled. "Is that all? Of course I'll stay."
He padded closer. "Where ya want me? One the bed?"
"If that's ok and not to close."
"Ok by me," he said, climbing in next to him, the bed plenty big enough to avoid any 'accidental' touching. Nothing was said, nothing needed to be said; all they needed was the sound of the rain outside, the darkness outside, and each others' warmth. *********************************************************************** Cal slowly opened his emerald green eyes to sunlight streaming in through his bedroom window. A quick look to his right at the clock on his bedside table revealed it to be early, around 7:30 in the morning. He attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes, not recalling even closing them the night before, to find his left arm seemed to be immobile. He glanced over and his heart leapt into his throat; at some point during their sleep they'd both moved closer to one another. So close, in fact, Gene had his muscular arm wrapped in his own chubby limbs in a tight embrace. Not only that, but the robe he was wearing had opened due to his movement, exposing a surprisingly sizable, black-skinned semi erect cock!
The tiger licked his lips, his breath turning ragged with building lust. He wanting nothing more than to slide down and wrap his lips around his friend's member, and in fact had already started the act of removing his arm from the raccoon's grip before he regained his composure. With a herculean amount of restraint he gripped the edge of the terrycloth garment and covered his nudity before standing up and moving towards the door. Before he reached the threshold, however, he was stopped by the sight of something else; he found himself staring at Gene's pudgy paw, still propped on the pillow, bag of ice now a bag of water, stubby toes twitching and curling occasionally.
The linebacker, for some reason he couldn't explain, walked mesmerized to the foot of the bed and knelt down, studying the broad paw in question. He took in the width, noticing it was almost as wide as it was long, and the meatiness of his dark grey pads. He'd never considered the idea of a foot being something he'd find attractive before, yet he found himself desperately wanting to touch it, take in its scent, perhaps even taste it. He looked up at the raccoon's face, studying it, to make sure he was still asleep. His face looked perfectly relaxed, and the soft snores that issued forth from him after a few confirmed his unconscious state. Cal reached forward and gently took hold of Gene's bare paw.
His cock jumped in his pants as he slowly ran his thumb against those supple grey pads, and the soft moan that came forth from the slumbering raccoon as he rubbed the base of his chunky toes caused a dribble of precum to moisten them. Feeling bolder, he leaned forward and pressed his nose against said chunky toes and inhaled. Mostly all he could smell was soap from his shower the night before, but under that was still a hint of his musk, just enough to make him desperate for more. He couldn't stop his tongue slipping from his maw and pressing against Gene's broad heel and traveling all the way up to his toes. His cock throbbed painfully, and if it were up to him he'd have stayed there licking his friend's paw all day, but soft whimpers coming from the direction of the raccoon snapped him out of it. Embarrassed, he jumped to his feet and practically ran out of the room.
He went to the kitchen and starting brewing a cup of coffee, taking the mug of steaming liquid to his spot on the couch. He considered turning the TV on but decided to leave it off, choosing to sit in silence and think. He hadn't realized just how strong his feelings for his friend were, it seemed all he needed was time near him to remind himself. But his feelings weren't the question, the question was what he was going to do about them. Did he stay silent and live one more year of this constant lie until he could reinvent himself in college? Or did he risk everything and tell the raccoon how he felt, even though it could end so poorly for him? He just didn't know.
He'd drank two more cups of the bitter brew by the time the smaller, rotund mammal padded sleepily into the living room, still wearing his robe. He looked a bit better than he did the night before, but it was still clear he'd been on the business end of a beating, and he was still favoring that left ankle as he walked. He was hugging himself, looking down at the floor sheepishly.
"Morning, bud. Sleep ok," Cal said.
"Yeah, ok thanks."
"Coffee?"
"No, I'm ok," he said, grimacing as he sat down on the couch next to him.
Silence reigned between the two, the few feet between them feeling like miles. It'd been so long since they'd spent anything even remotely resembling quality time with one another, neither of them really knew what to do or say. Cal wanted so badly to break the tension between them, to have things the way they were, but almost just as badly he wanted to touch the raccoon's chubby paws again. The tiger perked up a bit, sensing the perfect way to ingratiate himself.
"So," he started, turning to face him, "your ankle still bothering ya?"
"Um, yeah. I mean it's better, but it's stiff."
"If ya want I could...rub it for ya," Cal offered, trying to read the rounded face starring back at him.
"You w-wanna, rub my f-foot?"
"If it'll help, sure. I really don't mind."
Gene chewed his bottom lip in hesitant thought --'gods that's sexy,' the tiger thought to himself-- for a few moments before answering. He didn't answer verbally, however, he answered phyisically by shifting his rotund body until he was laying on his back, then lifted his left leg, settling that foot onto his friend's lap. Cal almost moaned as the raccoon tentatively wiggled his tubby toes.
"Is this ok?"
"Y-yeah," he said, stammering a bit, loving the warmth so near his crotch, "j-just let me know if I hurt you."
He smiled as Gene gave him a thumbs up, gently taking hold of his pudgy paw in both hands. He was forced to stifle another moan as he lightly squeezed his foot, feeling his striped digits sink into the grey, pillowy soft pads. The moan he was holding back was released full force by the raccoon as he loosened and separated his metatarsals and worked the tendons under his sole.
"Fuck that feels amazing," he gasped breathlessly as those strong fingers began work on his actual ankle joint and the top of his foot.
Cal didn't hear anything he was saying, only having ears for those enthusiastic, breathy sighs. A hazy cloud of euphoria descended over him, hearing only the pleasurable moans, feeling nothing but his tender paw. He licked his lips, desperate for another taste, desperate to know what it would be like to suck those thick toes. He was so lost in his own mind he didn't even notice Gene speaking to him at first.
"Sorry, what," he asked, shaking the fogginess out of his head.
The raccoon's eyes darted down to where his foot was saddled in the tiger's lap. Cal followed his gaze and felt the blood drain from his face. At some point his cock had engorged and popped out of the fly of his pj pants, and now his full length was pressed against Gene's sole! His eyes wide in shock and embarrassment, he opened his mouth but no words were to be found. Never in his entire life had he been so thoroughly mortified.
"What's going on," Gene asked, his own voice barely above a whisper.
Cal, usually never short on charm and things to say, found his abilitly to speak suddenly mired by stutters.
"I-I-I....l-like you.....th-th-that w-way."
"W-what do you mean?!"
"You kn-know, I l-like you....sexually."
"Wait, I'm confused, if you liked me like that why haven't you talked to me in so long?"
Cal shrugged, "I guess I thought if I had distance it would go away, but it hasn't."
The round raccoon looked down at his lap. He didn't know what to say. Cal abandoned him right when he needed him the most, and now he was trying to say he was attracted to him?! Of course Gene felt the same about him --how could he not with a beautiful, muscular body like that?-- but how could he pursue anything with someone who'd hurt him like that?
"Gene?"
He head snapped back up, not realizing he hadn't said anything in several minutes.
"Gene, say something, please."
"What do you want me to say, Cal, huh," he snapped. "One day we were best friends and the next you acted like you didn't know me, and now you've decided you want to start up again I'm just supposed to pretend that didn't happen and come running back to you? What about me, huh? What about my feelings? Do those matter at all to you?!"
Gene wiped the hot tears that's began to fall from his face with the back of his hand. Cal had his eyes squeezed shut; he looked like he was in as much pain as the raccoon had been the day before.
"I fucked up, I know that," the beefy tiger said softly. "You're right, I should have thought about you, but I was to afraid to think about anyone but myself. I was a coward. You have every right to hate me, I just hope, maybe, I can earn your trust back somehow."
The raccoon cursed under his breath. Damn his forgiving nature!
"I.....I guess I can understand why you did what you not....not that that excuses you, you understand."
"Of course."
"For what it's worth, I've always 'liked' you, liked you, too."
Cal opened his eyes and looked directly at his old friend.
"Really," he asked hopefully. His emeral green eyes shimmered tearfully.
"Of course, you idiot! I mean, look at you; you're fucking gorgeous!"
The tiger blushed fiercely under his fur.
"I think you're gorgeous," he said, feeling bold enough to rest a large paw on the raccoon's meaty ankle again, lightly rubbing, "I mean, you're just so cuddly and huggable."
There was silence for a moment until Gene, brain floating from the sweet compliment, spoke again.
"So, what now?"
Cal cleared his throat. "Well, I like you, you like me, what do you say we, maybe, fool around a little?"
The tiger regretted saying it as soon as the words left his lips, feeling it was the wrong time to make such an offer. He opened his mouth again to try and convince his friend it was just a joke but Gene cut him off.
"O-ok."
The big, striped cat blinked almost comically. "Really, are you sure?"
"I am. Don't know how much I'll be able to do in this condition, but I do want to try."
Cal smiled, the hand on his friend's leg joined by its twin as they both slowly slid up the chunky, brown-furred appendage, rubbing and stroking as they went.
"Well, why don't you just lay back and let me take care of you. We can call this part one of me trying to be the friend you deserve."
Gene giggled sweetly and scooted down until his head rested on the arm of the couch. His giggles were replaced with soft moans as the tiger's strong hands made their way to his thick, jiggly thigh. Cal slid out of his seat unto his knees on the floor as he sensually stroked the insides of the raccoon's thighs, relishing the sounds emanating from the back of his throat and beyond pleased to see him spread his legs wider for him. A terrycloth tent had formed over the smaller mammal's crotch. The linebacker bent down, his lips and teeth replacing his hands on his thighs to shower them with soft kisses and tender nips. As he did that he reached up, untying the belt of the robe and opening the garment wide to fully expose the object of his desires.
Cal stopped orally administering to his thighs, unable to stop the deep moan and breathy 'fuck' that came forth from him at finally seeing the raccoon in all his glory. Obviously he'd seen Gene's perfectly proportioned chest and big round belly the day before, but they'd been coated with a fine layer of mud and his mind had been to concerned with his safety to really take them in. As much of a beautiful sight as his torso was, it was the area below his waist that was truly mesmerizing to the tiger at the moment. He had an impressive endowment for his size, about 8 inches and impressively thick, with a set of fuzzy balls that were the perfect complimentary size.
He reached up and cupped his furry testicles in one huge hand, lightly kneading them. As the tiger continued administering to his sensitive balls he walked on his knees closer to Gene's head so he could gently caress his chubby, round cheek. The raccoon opened his eyes and looked up into Cal's face, moaning and whimpering. There was a moment when they just stared at each other like that, then Cal bent down farther and their lips met in the kiss they'd both been waiting for for years.
Gene placed one portly hand on the back of Cal's striped neck and the other on one broad shoulder as their tongues intermingled in their locked maws. The tiger ground his erection against the side of the couch as his friend moaned into his mouth from the ball teasing. He broke off their kiss, a thin stream of spittle continuing to connect their mouths for a couple moments, and showered his short, thick neck with soft pecks. The raccoon giggled softly, the light kisses tickling his neck, and reached down to grip his friend's erection. Cal responded in kind by gripping his 8 incher and gently squeezing. Both young men were already leaking precum, thrusting into the other's hand in excitement.
Cal scooted back to his previous position down by the raccoon's groin, regretfully pulling his cock from his friend's hand, and teasingly flicked his tongue across the engorged, leaking tip of his member multiple times. Gene whimpered piteously, the squeezing and licking torturous for him and his desperate need for an orgasm. He thrust desperately into the tiger's paw, claws digging deep into the cushions of the couch.
The tiger grinned, enjoying seeing his friend writhing from his touch. As much as he wanting to keep teasing and tormenting the poor raccoon --he really did look adorable squirming and mewling-- he wanted to finally fulfill his taste for cock. He moved his hand back down to Gene's balls and attempted to deepthroat his entire length in one go. He dry heaved as the tip tapped the back of his throat and came back off gagging.
"Gods are you ok," Gene asked worriedly, painfully lifting himself up on his elbows.
"Yeah *cough cough* sorry. That looks alot easier in pornos."
Gene giggled. "Yeah, I guess."
Once Cal caught his breath he tried again, taking his friend's length much slower. Going slower worked wonders! After a few more tries he was able to swallow all 8 inches like he'd been gobbling cock for years, and Gene certainly seemed to appreciate it as well if his loud vocalizations were any indication. The taste of the raccoon's member was heavenly; a heady mixture of salt and musk filling all his senses as he bobbed up and down slowly on it, teasing his balls and taint with one hand. His other hand caressed his own painfully erect rod as looked up to watch his friend's face.
Gene's eyes were squeezed shut, but his mouth was wide open, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as constantly cried out in pure pleasure. His claws gripped and dug into the cushions of the couch as he thrust his hips forward, fucking the tiger's mouth. Cal worked both cocks, his and Gene's, faster and harder, feeling his own orgasm coming closer and assuming the raccoon couldn't be far off either. Suddenly the chubby mammal popped his eyes open and stared down at him.
"Cal Cal oooh ooooh fuck I'm gonna cum Cal I'm gonna cum!"
Gene's balls tightened up in his hand, and before he knew it the raccoon was practically screaming in pleasure as Cal's mouth and throat suddenly filled with steamy-hot cum. He swallowed as much of the salty, semi-bitter liquid as he could, but there was so much and it was such a foreign taste a significant amount escaped from his lips and dribbled down his chin. The sights and sounds of his chubby friend fully enjoying his eruption pushed the beefy linebacker over the edge. His toes curled and his hips bucked as he shot his load, splattering the front of the couch and not caring at all.
Cal turned around so his back was against the jizzy spot and flopped down, wiping raccoon cum from his lips. He settled the back of his head against Gene's chunky thigh, reaching up and lovingly rubbing his pillowy round tummy. A hand rested gently on top of his, thick fingers tracing the stripes on the back, followed by a soft, contented sigh from the raccoon.
"That...was...amazing," he exclaimed breathily.
"Fuckin' A it was, buddy!"
There were a few more moments of silence before Gene spoke up again.
"So...you said your parents weren't coming home til Monday, right?"
"Yeah," he replied, glancing over with a cocky smirk on his face, "why, have any ideas on how to keep me from being bored?"
"I can think of a few!" ****************************************************************************** Cal and Gene spent the rest of Saturday and Sunday getting reaquainted with one another; by the end of Sunday night it was just like it was when they were younger --except for the sex, of course! Neither could remember the last time they'd shot so many loads in just two days. They made the most of their alone time, exploring each other's body and trying things that were brand new to the both of them. The tiger fully experimented with his newfound paw fetish, the chubby raccoon allowing him to suck his toes, kiss and caress his pawpads, and even lube up and fuck his soles! On his end, they discovered the smaller mammal had something of a kink of his own as the musky scent of the linebackers pits seemed to drive him wild.
They both agreed it was too early in their newly-minted relationship for penetration, but they did have quite the time hot dogging one another. They took turns laying their cocks between each others cheeks and faux-fucking until they blew their loads on the other's backs. It was no surprise Cal liked being on top, but it was shocking just how much he liked being on the bottom! For some reason, he found the weight of the rotund raccoon's belly resting on his back strangely comforting.
They both lay gasping for breath in Cal's bed around 2am after another "fucking" section, feeling fatigued but so, so satisfied. Gene laid his head on the tiger's broad, muscular, sweating chest, cooing softly as orange and black-striped arms wrapped around him.
"Best *pant pant* weekend ever," the raccoon said.
"Fuck yeah it was. Hey, you sure you got everything you need for school tomorrow," he questioned, refering to earlier when they took a short break from the playing around they'd been doing to make a quick trip to Gene's house with the mission of getting him a set of replacement cloths.
"Yeah."
"Good. Man, I gotta tell yeah, I've had a fantastic time with you this weekend."
Gene smiled, eyes closed, "Me too."
"Yeah, and it got me thinkin'," he starte, suddenly nervous, "I gotta game Friday night, but would you, maybe, wanna catch a movie or something Saturday?"
The raccoon's eyes popped open. He propped his head up so he could look Cal in the face.
"I-I don't know, man, what if one of your friends saw? I'd hate to think anyone turned on you because of me."
"What are you talking about," he questioned, "who cares about anyone seeing?"
"Well, what about, you know, your rep? Are you sure you wanna take the chance of it falling apart over me?"
He didn't answer right away, instead he settled a hand on the back of the raccoon's neck and pulled him down until their lips met in a kiss. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to Gene's, looking him right in his deep brown eyes.
"Fuck my reputation," he said.