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Aivon scratched his bare leg, digging through the plush fur just before the point where his avian scales started. He was certain he had gotten a tropical rash. How he had gotten a tropical rash in Santa Monica, California, was something he was still trying to figure out, but he was sure it. How else could he explain his leg itching so much? Maybe it was just a mosquito bite - but how was that any better when there was the Zika virus popping up everywhere?

Aivon wished he had stayed in Utah. No tropical skin rashes there. Just the workshop, the smarmy workers, and the bitchy truckers with carbuncles on their asses looking for some stuffy young man in a suit to take their frustrations out on. Aivon happened to be the onsite bureaucrat in that case.

He was in Santa Monica because it was the middle of the summer, and that meant, among other things, that it was time for a renegotiation of his employer's contracts. When he was ordered to go to California on a first-class plane to handle the task, he felt like he was being punished. He kept a stiff upper lip (he had a beak, but he found out the hard way that saying "stiff upper beak" was a humiliating faux pas of the greatest magnitude), and he got the ticket and did his job. Santa Monica was a warm and sunny paradise full of bright people roughly his age on vacation... and he hated it.

He picked up his drink and sipped from the straw. It was an embarrassing kind of straw, one made just for beaked creatures: a rubber piece which felt like an eraser provided a spot to bite on so that he could create suction. It reminded him of those novelty Beak Sheath condoms he'd used on his college roommate what felt like a lifetime ago. Aivon missed college; college had been so dead simple. No bitchy workers, no tropical rashes or diseased mosquitoes, just studying and the occasional advance from his roommate. Life had been pleasantly quaint.

The worst part of it all for Aivon, however, was that his work was all done. The contracts had been perused and signed. Name here, name here, initials here, DOB here, name here, thank you for working with us at Vom Wanderlust Shipping & Logistics Solutions. That monotony was over with, but his ticket wasn't good until the day after tomorrow. What was a stuffy, pissy nerd in gym shorts and a t-shirt which proclaimed I'd Rather Be Playing Minesweeper supposed to do in paradise? He didn't have the stomach for liquor, the almighty lubricant. He couldn't surf, he refused to go to a club (that was where you got fleas, the last thing he needed on top of his rash), and had the social skills of a Genius Bar employee. There was nothing he could do but mope.

Anybody who had never seen Aivon before undoubtedly thought first, wow, what on earth is that thing? It was hard to tell exactly what he was without being told, because he was a peculiar combination of bird and hyena, resembling the former in most ways, but the latter with his tail and the mohawk between his pert ears which had no place on a true bird. Aivon would have been surprised to learn that he was actually a very attractive young man, and he wouldn't have believed it if anyone had bothered to tell him.

Those who were familiar with Aivon remembered him easily for two reasons, neither of which were mutually exclusive: his aforementioned odd species, and his terrible attitude. It was obvious within ten seconds of meeting Aivon that he was a bitchy queen. Snide, sassy, condescending; Aivon exemplified every trait of an obnoxious bitch. His unwarranted superiority complex was why his college roommate - whom had taught him how to suck dick - no longer kept up with him. It was the reason his boss had been so insistent about sending him out to California.

A chubby truck driver taking a break in paradise saw Aivon during a brisk walk down the boardwalk. His wide hips and fat ass jiggled constantly in an almost feminine way. Although he stopped, his belly didn't get the memo until a second later, and so there was still a little gelatin motion in his chunky body when he planted his paws on his tubby hips and gushed, "Hey, I remember you, kiddo!"

Aivon flinched. He had been making bitter tweets about the current state of the presidency when the wolf addressed him, startling him into the beginning of a squawk which he barely silenced.

The bird looked up slowly, following stout black legs up to Bermuda shorts which, in contrast to their oversized leg holes, were so tight in the crotch that the outline of the trucker wolf's penis appeared like a chubby caterpillar sleeping on a pair of oranges. He scanned across the wolf's naked gut where a wedge of gray fluff resembled a seam on a stuffed toy. He took in the old wolf's face and saw familiar orange eyes, but most recognizable was the smirk. The wolf looked exactly like a dad who had just caught his son beating off.

Aivon huffed. He glanced down at his phone again and smiled at his own wit, as he perceived it, then slid his phone into his hip pocket.

The wolf pulled a chair away from an unoccupied table and sat across from the bird. He folded his grubby, thick arms on the table and caused the metal to tiredly creak. His ragged but fluffy tail wagged between the two thin posts holding up the backrest of his chair.

"Uh," Aivon murmured, lacing his fingers on the table. "It's been a while, Mr. Huffman."

"Yeah! Didn't think I'd see a familiar face here," Ryan Huffman laughed, and in that moment he looked identical to the way Aivon remembered him, unfortunate shorts notwithstanding. Cheap sunglasses rested on top of his head. Aivon winced with a twinge of OCD when he thought of how greasy the lenses must be. "How you doin' lately, kid?" He kicked the bird's scaly leg under the table. Aivon chose not to react. "Take any good ones up the butt since I left you?"

Aivon bristled and huffed. He hissed, "No! Anal sex has not been a priority of mine," then glanced around guiltily, trying to discern if anybody was listening. His leg began to itch again and he thought balefully: leprosy!

"Aw, that's a real shame," Ryan clucked. Aivon hated how Ryan both sounded and looked legitimately disappointed. It conjured images of his own father the hyena, dour-faced and criticizing his collegiate activities. "Me, it's my one goal in life."

Aivon smiled politely, but his eyes were mortified. "Is it, now."

"Yep!" Ryan chirped. "Hell, it's part of why I'm here. Lookit all these be-e-each bu-u-ums," he gushed, having a quick peek around. Prettyboys abounded: fine asses in g-strings and thongs, bubble butts and athletic cheeks alike all on display, although Ryan's affections were solely for the boys. Older folks meandered among the young beauties, giving the tubby wolf the chaff he needed to blend in.

"Gawd, look at that," he puffed, catching sight of an equine twink, his black and white zebra stripes bringing to mind images of delectable white chocolate in Ryan's mind. The thong he wore was fit to burst wrapped over his genitals and the string vanished between his striped cheeks. "I'd eat pancakes off an ass like that."

The hyena-bird tentatively appreciated the boy, but he believed something so fine was outside of his league. He turned back to Ryan and realized that in some odd way, he was happy to see the trucker. Even though he had seen the wolf only once and well over a year ago, Ryan had left an unforgettable impression on little Aivon because of his slobbering tongue and sweaty, foul smells. Aivon attributed his abashed love for such nasty musk as his hyena side showing through, and even now he wanted to knock the fat papa wolf down and roll in his filth. It would have interfered with his Summer Vacation party pooping, however, and breaking countenance to hug and squeeze and ride Ryan wouldn't do at all. Fully intent on keeping up appearances, he dryly said, "Perhaps you should go do so."

Ryan turned his head slowly back to Aivon, his orange eyes getting there well before his nose pointed at the bird. This owl-like stare unsettled Aivon deeply. "Na-a-ah. He's walking with a girl, anyway. I mean, look at that." He gestured to where the boy had been and tragically cried, "A perfect sissy ass, wasted!"

"Alas, poor Ryan. I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of limited deodorant," parodied Aivon, fingers outstretched in a clutching claw.

The wolf erupted into belly laughter and awkwardly covered his mouth. He slammed into the chair's protesting back rest, scooting it back on its rear feet. The front feet came off the boardwalk and Ryan's arms shot out and pinwheeled before he found his balance and hastily slammed the chair down. He stared at Aivon, wide eyed and still snickering. "Fuck you, kid," he said, and started to laugh again. "Quoting that Shakespeare shit at me like you're some kinda cultured fag."

"I am a cultured f-," Aivon cut himself off, blushing crimson. Ryan cackled into his paws. "I am cultured!" he squawked.

"More cultured'n cottage cheese," the wolf sagely said, trying hard to keep the giggles out of his voice. With the heels of his paws, he dabbed at tears springing up in the corners of his eyes. "Ah, kid, c'mon, let's cut to the chase." He looked at Aivon with a puffy-eyed face which the bird might have thought was from crying if he hadn't known better. "Y'wanna head back with me?"

Aivon narrowed his cold eyes, leaning back in his seat. He allowed himself the tiniest of grins. "Why would I want to do that?"

The trucker wolf propped his chin up on his palm. He grinned back, but his was huge and resplendent in its sleaze. "C'mo-o-on. You know why." He nudged Aivon's scaly leg again with his sandal. The bird flinched away, letting out a tiny squawk. "I got a big black pecker with your name on it, same as last time. It ain't gotten any smaller or softer since then." He licked his lips, resting both arms on the table parallel to each other. His dirty orange eyes drilled into Aivon's, and the bird began to blush. Lowly, Ryan growled, "I made you pop like a fuckin' water balloon last time. Don't act like you wouldn't want to go again."

"Mmh," Aivon grunted. "I don't want my hotel room to stink like trucker balls."

Ryan's grin became a smile which was warm and gentle. "Step into my office then, sweet stuff," he invited the bird, punctuating his offer with a wink.

For god's sake, what am I _doing _with my life? thought Aivon as he followed Ryan, watching his ass cheeks wiggle and bounce like a pair of perpetual motion machines trapped under Bermuda shorts. He could smell musk and sweat in the wolf's wake. Did Ryan ever bathe? Had he actually stepped under a showerhead in the year or so since they had met? It didn't smell like it, and Aivon hated how he loved that stink. He was thinking with a swishing tail about the Beak Sheath he kept in his wallet despite his outspoken disdain for the concept.

"Here she is," Ryan said, walking up to the most unmistakable vehicle in the boardwalk parking lot. It was a black semi truck which sported ironic outlines of naked vixens on its mudflaps. Rust fanned around its wheel wells and specked the chrome like tetanus-filled sneezes. It reminded Aivon of horror movies; it looked like the kind of vehicle which admitted hookers and output parts of hookers. Had Aivon not nominally known and trusted Ryan, he would have certainly cried stranger danger and scampered back to the boardwalk.

The wolf ran his paw lovingly along her siding on his way up to the door. He sighed and rested on it. "I promised her I'd give her a nice view of the ocean one of these days," he wistfully said, a smile on his face.

Aivon paused, blinked, looked the truck over and thought in homage to one of his favorite movies: What a piece of junk! "It's a truck, Ryan," he dubiously said. The tone was a gentle dream-crushing one, like what a parent would use to inform their child that Santa didn't really exist.

Ryan just looked at him and smiled mystically, appearing like a shaman of big rigs. "She looks that way to you," he stated, nodding wisely. The trance broke and he said jovially, "Go around the other side, kiddo, papa'll unlock the door for you."

Sitting up on the cracked faux leather of the passenger seat with crumpled McDonald's and Burger King bags forming a shifting tectonic plate of refuse underfoot, Aivon believed he'd never felt more uncomfortable in all his life. When Ryan started the truck and glanced over at him, Aivon at least managed to feign a smile.

Ryan idled the truck down the boulevard, goosing the gas now and then to spook those too lackadaisical to get out of the way in a timely manner. "These fuckin' Summer Break dillholes," Ryan groused.

The wolf's demeanor made Aivon think of his own dad again. The fact that equating Ryan to his old man turned Aivon on was something he pushed to the back of his mind with no small amount of haste.

"Ummm. So."

The wolf flicked his sly, rusty eyes on Aivon for a second. "What's up, kiddo?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking," Aivon murmured, rubbing his bare, bony knees. "Uh, have you made any good deliveries lately?"

Ryan smacked his flabby jowls and let off a thoughtful puff like a boiler letting off steam. "Well, lessee, I did deliver a big ol' mound of pig shit to some compost company. That one was pretty unforgettable, lemme tell you."

"Eugh. Disgusting."

"Bah, come on, kid," Ryan gushed, slapping Aivon's knee, causing him to flinch. At the end of the boulevard, Ryan turned out onto the paved road and started for his motel. "You're, what, part 'yeen? So you love smelly shit!"

"If that's how you want to justify my liking you, then maybe that notion holds water," Aivon tartly said.

Ryan snickered. "I'm smelly shit now, is that it? We'll see how smelly I am when I'm sittin' on your beak, kiddo." Catching sight of Aivon's wince, he added, "Oh, what? Not so hot about that?"

"Not really, no," the bird shyly answered.

"But I bet you'd like it the other way around. Wouldn't ya'?" A big, sleazy grin.

Aivon looked away, hoping to hide his hot blush. "Bah. Mmm-, maybe. Probably not, though."

Ryan kept his eyes on the road, but Aivon still felt like he was being studied and mentally undressed by the terrifically dirty wolf. "I'unno about that, kiddo. My memory may not be the best, but I sure as fuck remember making some bird-yeen lookin' thing squirm and cry and just about bust his nuts just from me tonguing his butthole."

"It must have been someone else, I assure you." Inside of Aivon's head, a little voice teased, who are you fooling? Are you fooling him? I hope so, because _we're _not fooled at all. You might as well write _TONGUE GOES HERE _on your butt cheeks with lipstick.

"Aw... shit," Ryan huffed, and Aivon looked to see why. The parking lot of the wolf's motel, already a tight and unkempt lot unsuitable for a semi truck, was almost solid with cars. Nearly every vehicle inside had out-of-state plates. "No goddamn way we're getting in there."

Aivon sank back into the seat, disappointed. "Ah, so, no casual sex then?"

"Never said that. Just means we're doing it in my flea-infested truck instead of on a flea-infested vibrating bed." Ryan buzzed past the mouth of the parking lot, continuing down the paved road. Businesses scrolled past. Tourists and beach bodies became rarer and rarer until they were completely diluted by the normal California traffic. "We're just gonna find some nice, quiet place to park. Ain't the first time my sleeper's been used for stacking."

"Your what's been used for what?" asked Aivon, bewildered.

Ryan paused at a red light, and turned right when the traffic let him through. "Well, see, kid - pretty cramped back there." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the curtained-off sleeping compartment. Aivon declined to look for himself. "Barely a cot, really. See, it sleeps one. As in, one guy can lay on it and be barely uncomfortable. It stacks two."

"Oh," Aivon murmured, feeling very dumb suddenly. "So, we're... going to have sex in your truck?"

"Uh-huh," the wolf answered.

"I suppose your little cot is completely filthy."

Ryan glanced at him, smiling. "You betcher cute ass it is. Hey, you wanna gimme a handjob? Like, now?"

The bird blushed crimson and leaned into the seat. He realized he hadn't put on his seat belt and now clicked it on hastily. "Distracted driving? I don't think so, friend. It isn't just your life at risk!"

"Kid, we're in a semi truck. Worst thing you're gonna get if I hit someone is whiplash."

"I meant if you hit a car, you could kill someone," Aivon said, disgusted, though he had been thinking more of his own safety.

Soon the wolf pulled off into a vacant, lonesome lot alongside a dilapidated theater. Scrawny, malnourished weeds sprung out of the asphalt like discount bouquets, and most of the parking blocks were piles of painted rubble and rebar. The nose of the truck pointed towards the ocean.

"Here we go. Nice and secluded. Nobody to bug us here 'cept for maybe the crackheads," Ryan said. He killed the engine and rolled the window up halfway. Aivon did the same, and working the crank made him realize he had not touched a manual car window since childhood.

Aivon unclasped the seat belt but stayed pinned to the seat. He eyed Ryan suspiciously, though a smile tugged at the corners of his beak. "Well-," he paused unnaturally, feeling terribly embarrassed, "I suppose this is your move now, Ryan."

The trucker straightened his cap and yawned. He scratched his chin, producing a bristling sound. "Yeah, yeah, I guess it is. All right, kiddo - follow me."

Aivon watched as Ryan pulled back the ratty blackout curtain behind the seats, revealing a tight sleeping space in the rear of the cab. A mattress no bigger than a bedroll sat on the floor surrounded by random fast food trash and a few pornographic gay magazines. Ryan rolled onto the cot, utterly pancaking it. He rubbed his belly and gave it a pat. "C'mon, kiddo, mount up!" he invited the bird. "Stacks two, like I said."

"Oh, I am going to get fleas," Aivon whined as he joined the fat wolf. There was no way around it: he had to lay on top of Ryan, and he did, feeling very small as his taut belly came to rest on Ryan's gut. "Oh... this is-, it's cozy, I suppose. But hot."

"The heat makes it good," Ryan growled. His paws groped for Aivon's butt and he began to knead and squeeze, digging into Aivon's soft boyflesh through his shorts and downy fur. "Makes it good and nasty, kiddo. Sweat drippin' off your balls, right into my mouth. That kinda stuff. C'mon, you're like half hyena, you love it nasty."

"Maybe I do," Aivon said in a very bitchy tone of voice. "But maybe I don't like having it pointed out! Someone could hear us in here."

"Kid, c'mon. If someone wants to watch an old queen and a bitchy buttboy have some nasty, they've probably got bigger problems than we do." His chubby finger snaked under Aivon's shorts, gripping his cheeks through his briefs. "Cotton undies, huh? Tighty-whiteys, am I right?"

Aivon huffed. "They're supportive. Boxers make-, they make your scrotum hang so low."

"What, like mine does?" Ryan asked, giggling. "I dunno, kid. Boys say my balls are pretty nice. Maybe there's something to wearing boxers all your life."

"Can we just get this going? Please? Before I catch malaria in here?"

"Malaria? Kid, it might be humid, but this isn't a fucking rainforest. But you wanna get to the chase? Yeah, sure... I guess we can manage that. But first, you are gonna get these nerdy briefs off that cute, green ass, and then you're gonna sit on my fucking face."

Aivon managed to smirk. "Sit on your face? And what's in it for me?"

"Free cavity check with my tongue?" Ryan facetiously offered. "Christ, kid, you're gonna get a rimjob. Don't be such a goddamn brat."

"Fine, fine," Aivon murmured, squirming on Ryan to slip off his shorts and his briefs. The wolf gave him a little help, or at least pretended to; he was really just fondling Aivon's behind. "But, I must warn you, I've been sweating all day and-..." He sighed, feeling very stupid as realization hit him. "That's exactly what you want, isn't it?"

Ryan smooched Aivon's beak. "And it took you that long to figure it out. I thought you college-degree kids were smart, but most of y'all are dumb as a box of shit." A toothy grin spread across his aged snout, compounded by his sly orange eyes.

"Shut up," Aivon hissed. He climbed over the wolf, bumping his head not once, but twice on the ceiling of the nook. He said nothing in either case. Eventually he worked himself around to the point that his athletic, furry bottom was near Ryan's snout, and the papa wolf did the rest, pulling him closer and wedging his snout between the well-exercised but still adorable cheeks of the bird-hyena's ass.

Ryan assaulted the bird's anus with slobbers and slurps punctuated by indulgent snuffles as he drew in Aivon's heady, mixed musk. For his part, Aivon sat gingerly on Ryan's face, blushing and staring vapidly at the wall of the cab. It was so claustrophobic, and the air was so still, made even more oppressive by the musky scent of Ryan's festering male stink impregnating the cot. The wolf's vulgar sounds rebounded inside the tight quarters, filling the air, and soon Aivon began to pant and huff, his circumcised cock swelling needfully. Its glans dribbled precum across Ryan's heaving, grayed breast.

Between gluttonous strokes of his tongue, Ryan purred, "Make yourself useful there, kiddo. Let my pecker out, these shorts are gonna gimme jungle rot."

Aivon looked helplessly at Ryan's hideous Bermuda shorts. The wolf's cock pulled them taut, making them look like a small, gaudy campground tent. "God," he murmured, closing scaly fingers around Ryan's cock bulge. _That's not where you grab them to pull them down, you're not going to pull them down like that, all you're doing-. _The bird clenched his eyes shut and his fist around Ryan's clothed penis, silencing his mental squawking and spurring a pleasurable grunt and a buck out of papa wolf.

Still with eyes closed, Aivon massaged Ryan's penis, groping and kneading it, taking his daily stresses out on the plump third leg the trucker called a dick. Its flesh did not give for Aivon; it was stiff as what seemed like iron, and it breathed in his grip. Precum soaked through the ugly fabric and the odorous smell of fresh lupine musk sent shivers racing down his spine like drops of icewater.

"Aw fu-u-uck, kiddo," Ryan bleated, chasing the words with a faggoty titter. His huge, work-calloused paws played across Aivon's effeminate, but athletic body. He slid his pads under the boy's shirt and tweaked pert nipples hidden under plush fur. As subtly as a car crash, he packed his broad nose into the pucker of Aivon's anus and snuffled it, snorting the boy's asshole like it was a line of coke. "You keep rubbin' my dick like that and I'm gonna pop," Ryan said, muffled by Aivon's body.

Slowly, and a bit shamefaced, Aivon let go of Ryan's penis. Its hot bulk left a noticeable absence in his hand. He briskly shoved down the wolf's Bermuda shorts, revealing naked fur and flesh. Putting eyes on Ryan's cock made Aivon salivate. It stood tall and proud like a black monolith, shiny with sweat and its own vulgar moisture. Without thinking much of it, Aivon grabbed his own shorts which had been shoved into the corner and took out his wallet. He removed the Beak Sheath he had put there years ago (just in case, he had sheepishly told himself then) and ripped open its package.

The smell of latex was sudden and startling. Ryan pulled his sniffer off the bird's asshole and asked, "Is that a condom, kid? You think I got the syph or something? I don't fuck lot lizards."

"Nuh, issa-," Aivon murmured, applying the two firm, thick pieces of latex to his beak, "it's a-, it's a thing." He found himself embarrassed to speak the product's name. _Show, don't tell, _he thought, and grabbed Ryan's sweaty cock again. In one hungry gulp, he engulfed the eight or nine inches of Ryan's ebony cock in his beak. The soft, purple latex lining now on his beak gave him temporary lips and he closed them on Ryan, much to the wolf's surprise and delight.

With just the first suck, Ryan curled his toes in his sandals. "Ooh, gawd," he whined, grinning broadly. "Oh, it's one of those Beak Suck things, or whatever it is," he said, mortifying Aivon. "Aw, kid, that's so cute! You like the taste of pecker so much, you even carry a lil' thing around so you can suck guys off!"

Only you, Aivon wanted to say. He hadn't used one of them since college, when an extroverted roommate taught him the delicate art of cocksucking, and Aivon hadn't forgotten the lessons. The taste of Ryan's penis was a more aged, raw one than his roommate's small, delicate meat had been, but that was only a benefit. Ryan's cock was grubby and sweaty, and every lap across its veined flesh treated him to the wonderful taste of dick seasoned with age. His nostrils, fairly close to the wolf's scrotum which dangled low and slack in the heat, sucked in olfactory musk while his tongue tasted it. Softly he moaned, closing his scaly hands around the wolf's ballbag. Sweat dripped from the fur, running through his digits like sap from a tree, and his hyena side couldn't have been happier with this musky treacle. His tail swished giddily, moving a little air in the cramped cab.

"Damn, kid, just damn," Ryan huffed. Aivon's pucker winked at him, and he couldn't bear to let that coquettish little pucker go without some love. First Ryan gave it long, slow laps, slathering Aivon from backsack to tail, making the coat of saliva thicker and thicker with each repetition as if smearing on layers of paint. His paws caressed Aivon, sliding up against the grain of his fur one way before sliding down with its smoothness. Beneath Ryan's calloused digits, the nerdy bird's nerves lit with pleasure. Ryan knew just how to touch pretty boys; he had distilled it down to a science which he could not explain, but which he could practice flawlessly on a moment's notice. Aivon certainly thought the wolf had gifted fingers.

Aivon gulped, sucking, slobbering Ryan with growing hunger. The wolf's fat cock spurted and bulged, throbbing fatter and harder as the bird's fake lips let him tighten down and suck it. It was when the bird broke off his seals that the wolf felt the most pleasure, when he would grind and huff and curl his chubby toes. That was when the depleted blood from it and the fresh blood came in, revitalizing nerves pulled taut by the new, temporary plumpness of his dark meat. And then Aivon would do it all over again, sucking and gulping until he could suck no more and had to break the seal. He went at the wolf with such terrible efficiency and deeply-seated lust that he didn't realize the wolf was about to climax.

Ryan said nothing about his impending orgasm. There was really no reason to; either he pop now, or ten seconds after sticking it into Aivon's gay ass. When the pleasure was just too much, Ryan pressed his snout into that hyena pucker again and drew a deep, hungry hit. It may not have been the push he needed - Aivon would soon have him there anyway - but it helped, and it made the orgasm perfect for Ryan, who was never truly satisfied without something to stick his nose in.

The thick, white manslop which suddenly coated Aivon's tongue and filled his beak was cause enough for a squawk, and he uttered it when he popped his sheathed lips off the wolf's meat. Cum dribbled down Aivon's beak and into his fluffy neck, and still more was gushing into his mouth. Thinking briefly oh my god the mess, Aivon swallowed. He ate Ryan's cum, thinking himself a whore for it. He then decided if he was a whore, he should enjoy it, and he slipped his sheathed beak around the wolf's cock again to be sure he properly caught the cum - and to stem a horrid mess, of course. The gentle, loving laps he gave Ryan's ejaculating cock were something he would yell at himself for later on. He enjoyed the wolf too much not to taste him even now.

"Mmm... mmm. Fuck." Ryan palmed Aivon's behind, which he no longer had his muzzle buried in. He drew a breath, sighed, and relaxed against the cot. "I was gonna fuck you in the butthole, kiddo," he said wanly.

A wave of anxious guilt passed over Aivon, compounded by the fact that he had wanted to be fucked and was extremely horny. He pulled away from Ryan's softening cock and plucked the used Beak Sheath off. He looked around for a place to put it, but, seeing no receptacle, simply dropped it in with the rest of the filth carpeting Ryan's truck. _I'll just have to remember to pick that up when I leave, h_e thought, knowing full well he would leave it there.

"I'm sorry," Aivon said, almost whining. "It was-, I just, you see, it was so..." He trailed off, then said in near-exultation, "You taste so good, Ryan."

"Kid, you might be the first person I ever knew who apologized for sucking my dick," Ryan laughed, his voice and even his laughter languid from afterglow. "Look here, kiddo. Just... just gimme five, maybe ten minutes. Lemme relax a little bit, let the old cucumber chill out. Then I'll stuff ya' like a turkey," he said, stroking down the small of Aivon's smooth back. "That sound good?"

The bird, twisting around to look at Ryan's face, smiled awkwardly. "Are you sure? I could just-."

"And now you're the first person I ever knew who wanted to apologize for me wanting to fuck 'em in the butt! Christ, kid!" Ryan laughed more heartily and pulled Aivon down. He planted a smooch on the bird's musky beak with similarly musky jowl-lips.

The scent of his own asshole made Aivon think, do I really smell like that? But I scrub so much!

"Just. Relax." Ryan emphatically said. "Okay? Be a good lil' birdy, and papa'll getcha an ice cream afterward."

"That sounds nice, actually, even though I know it's a joke," muttered Aivon.

"Well then, if it sounds nice, it's not a joke," Ryan said, and smooched him again. "You and me, we'll go cool off with some ice cream after we smash."

Aivon grinned bashfully. "We-e-ell, if we're waiting for you to... recharge so to speak, couldn't we get ice cream now?"

Ten minutes walking to an ice cream stand and ten minutes walking back while eating dripping, phallic fruit pops was long enough for Ryan to feel ready again. When they reached the truck, they tossed the stained popsicle sticks on the ground and hastened into the truck, Ryan yanking off his shorts again, Aivon doing the same. The hyena-bird sprawled across the cot, staring needfully at Ryan.

"The-, um, the ice cream was good," Aivon muttered, looking at Ryan's fat and greasy cock. Already the wolf was fully erect. Fat, uncircumcised, pitch-black cockflesh dribbled precum on the cot. The bird stared at it, awed by its stature and beauty. "God. You're big."

"Didn't get any bigger since I had it in your beak, kiddo," Ryan said with a chuckle. "Hey... hold right up a second, lemme see if I can..." He trailed off and started to dig around in the garbage of his truck, fishing up sex toys which he immediately released back into the ocean of trash. He came across a bottle of lube and tossed it absently to Aivon, but went back into the trash again.

Aivon, watching Ryan with growing impatience but curiosity, took this moment to lube himself. He was unaccustomed to fingering. His scaly fingers, even when smeared with lube, caused him to wince in minor pain which slowly gave over to pleasure. "Mmn. What are you doing, Ryan?" he asked softly while slowly and cautiously fingering himself, his legs splayed wide.

"Just lookin' for a little-, aha! Here we go!" Ryan laughed in triumph, holding up an object which Aivon had mixed opinions of: a jockstrap. Its elastic was yellowed and strained, and the red pouch bore numerous unidentifiable stains which his hyena side wished to taste- and smell-test in vigorous detail.

"That thing looks disgusting," Aivon said, simultaneously grossed-out and thrilled.

"Doesn't it? I kept this puppy since I graduated high school. Still like to slip it on now 'n then," he said, as he did exactly that with some difficulty in the cramped compartment. He only tucked its pouch around his sweaty, black balls, and even then, only for a moment. He sighed wistfully before he tugged its pouch to the side, springing his nuts free, allowing them to breathe again. "I figure, what with you bein' part 'yeen and all," Ryan said as he took the lube and smeared his meat with it, "well, you might wanna give this puppy a sniff when I slip it off."

Aivon shuddered at the thought. His penis throbbed. "That sounds absolutely horrible."

"Doesn't it?" The trucker smiled. With his meat lubed and shiny, he pressed up close to the sissy bird. He nudged apart Aivon's thighs, and the bird parted them obligingly.

Ryan guided his prick to Aivon's snug anus, and the touch alone of flesh on flesh caused both slut and papa wolf to moan softly. "Here it comes, kiddo," growled the trucker on his way inside, spearing open what had previously been an extremely tight, cute pucker.

From Aivon came a squawk, and then he clapped his beak shut. His hyena ears splayed down and his clawed fingers, despite how bluntly groomed he kept them, raked into the metal and molded plastic of the cabin. "Nnnh. Mmn, gawd, ouch," Aivon muttered through his beak. "Oh, it's bigger-, bigger than I remember. It hurts, Ryan."

"It'll feel real good soon, sugar," Ryan purred, and Aivon knew he was right. "Just let it hurt for right now, get it outta the way. Let papa do his thing." The chubby, dark bulk of Ryan's penis bored Aivon open, adjusting what had once been a good, slutty ass into exactly that again. The lube did its part, leaving the the sudden dilation as the only cause for pain. By the time Ryan's hips were flush to Aivon and the bird's thighs were bent against his chubby, gray-streaked gut, the pain had died down to a twinge.

Aivon looked helplessly at Ryan, his gray eyes glimmering in the sunlight filtering through grimed windows. "Please, Ryan," he begged the wolf. "It's been so long since I've had this. Don't make me wait."

The smile Ryan shot him was heart-melting in its warmth. It was hard to believe that that smile was coming from someone who had tongued his ass earlier and was now balls-deep inside of him. "Sure, kiddo," he said, and he gave Aivon exactly what he needed.

Just like the truck he drove, Aivon thought rather poetically, Ryan was slow to get moving but mighty when he got up to speed. While his paws slid and groped for purchase wherever they could on the innards of the cabin, Ryan began to buck his hips. Slowly but with monstrous power, just like a truck with mountains of torque, the stout wolf bucked against Aivon's younger, more feminine form. His lubricated cock battered the tender innards of Aivon's ass, gouging and re-gouging tight flesh, sending tweaks of pleasure up the bird's spine.

"Yes, ooh yes," Aivon whimpered almost inaudibly. His fingers still had lube on them when he started tugging his cock. It spat precum across his belly, putting stains in his jaunty shirt. Ryan's bucks shoved him, folding him into the cab wall. His neck bent and his shoulders bore the brunt of the punishment. Aivon gazed at Ryan, watching with envy and maybe a little bit of purely sexual love as the wolf broke out into a fresh sweat. The stench of musk and greasy dick sweltered in the cab, teasing both noses which hungered for just that kind of stink.

Ryan was picking up speed now, rocking his heavy truck with his movements. Aivon's behind had fully adjusted to his presence, and the pain was gone, leaving only slutty delight. The burly wolf, his tongue briefly dangling from his mouth, chuckled wickedly and closed his paws about Aivon's scaly ankles. He began to bend the bird's legs inward, not harming the flexible boy but folding him so tightly that he could nearly lick the head of his own penis.

"I'm not a pretzel!" Aivon squawked, but he was blushing red as a cherry and jerking off without shame. His toes curled and evidently caught Ryan's eye, for the wolf immediately dragged his tongue across the rough sole of the bird's foot. "Oh, what are you doing?" the boy asked, unable to keep a titter out of his voice.

"Just thought your foot looked real cute," Ryan said, huffing his words. "Got sand in my mouth though."

"Ah, sorry," Aivon muttered, not knowing what he was apologizing for, but he found that needless apologies got one far in the corporate world. "Oh, Ryan... this is great."

A smirk quirked Ryan's snout. He hugged Aivon's legs together to his chest in one arm and braced the other paw on the compartment overhead. "Ah, yeah. My thoughts-," he grunted, "my thoughts exactly, kiddo. A most indubitable assfuck."

"Oh, shut up," the bird hissed. He was smiling.

The truck jostled unmistakably with Ryan's harsh movements. He was throwing all his manly weight into Aivon, smashing against him again and again like some counterweight in a piece of industrial equipment. His balls, sweaty and fat, dragged across the cot before completing their arc against Aivon's bottom and tail every time. "Gonna pop for you, kid," Ryan said, almost breathless now. "You better want papa's slop inside you, 'cause I ain't pulling out for this."

"God no, you do that inside me where it belongs," Aivon said, surprising himself with his own whorishness. "I can't believe I said that."

"I can," Ryan muttered. His orange eyes squinted shut, and he let go of Aivon's legs and the compartment. For bracing, he draped his body over the bird's like he was some proper missionary lover, and Aivon threw his legs around Ryan's hips for his part. "Gawddamn, kiddo. I say this to all the boys, but you got the tightest ass I've ever fucking felt."

"Except-, except that in my case," Aivon bleated between haggard gasps for air, "it's true."

Ryan laughed weakly, and that set the tone for his second, final climax that afternoon. He pounded up against Aivon, his fat ass jiggling in the wake of such a buck. Ryan was panting across Aivon's face, further smothering him in musky, stale air when he shot into the bird's ass with the forcefulness and fullness that Aivon expected. Thick, sticky ropes of powerful wolfslop battered Aivon's insides, clinging to him like gel and spreading pervasive warmth and wetness.

Even though he was almost pinned under Ryan, Aivon still abused himself, but couldn't get the leverage he needed. Showing unvarnished desperation, he whined, "I want to cum too. Please. Just ease off a little bit..."

The wolf, smirking and huffing like the tired champ he was, decided to give Aivon more than he could have ever asked for. He pulled his softening meat free of the bird, and his spent cock was followed by a minor gush of cum which left Aivon blushing and staring shamefaced at the ceiling of the cab. He had just begun to stroke himself again when Ryan said, "Hold up, kid. Here."

What came next should have been no surprise to Aivon. Ryan tugged off the jockstrap, that ancient garment which he had merely freshened up just now. Its pouch was rank was crotch sweat, and the deeply ingrained stench of Ryan's body had been reawakened by this impregnation of new sweat. Red-faced and desperately horny, he nevertheless watched respectfully as Ryan slipped the pouch over his beak and the elastic around the back of his head.

"Now you jerk that little dick right off."

"Thank you, oh god, thank you-u-u," Aivon whined, jerking off hurriedly as he sucked in the scent of such tarnished cotton. The years-old smell of Ryan's balls had grown into something incomprehensible even to such a musk-hungry nose as Aivon's, like a fine cheese introduced to an uncultured palate, but Aivon sucked it in greedily. He was getting lightheaded, and he realized as orgasm began to take hold that he was taking off into space, getting high off of the overwhelming stench of Ryan's junk. It was a moment his anal-retentive bird half would look upon with distaste, but his unfettered hyena side would always crave this moment again.

Aivon, with a little squawk and a shudder, shot high into the air of the cabin. His cum arced and landed neatly on his belly, nearly in his navel. Each rope after the first mighty shot arced lower than the last until it was only an ooze in the palm of his hand and a sticky trail down his belly, all the way to his groin. When his orgasm had nearly subsided, he tugged the jockstrap off of his head, already feeling deeply ashamed of what a whore he had been.

The trucker simply tossed the sacred jockstrap back into the junk in his truck, then sat back on the opposite side of the cot as Aivon. His chubby, naked feet brushed Aivon's elegant, scaly claws. He smiled at the bird pleasantly. "We-e-ell, kiddo. How long you gonna be out here?"

"A few more days," said Aivon, falling taciturn again after his climax. "Why? Did you think I'd want to do this again...?"

"Well, I know you would," Ryan said smugly, and Aivon hated that the wolf was right. "Whaddaya say you just stick with me, huh? Ride around with papa a few days, sit on his face... maybe let him sit on yours?"

"I'd have to think about that," the bird-hyena answered, but felt a flutter in his chest: Ryan's musky, sweaty ass on his beak? How could he resist that? "For now, ah, how about more ice cream?"