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Coming to grips with sexual attraction can be a difficult thing.

For some, sexual identity is a lifelong journey that forces a person to investigate parts of their mind that they'd rather leave untouched.

For others, identity isn't the crisis, as much as questioning what you thought you already knew about yourself.

"I never would have let a little fox take me like that...never in a million years," James groaned into his beer as he sat at the bar and stared at the old, tired wood that held his elbows. "So why on earth did I enjoy it so much? Why can't I stop thinking about it?"

James didn't have any issues with accepting his sexual identity, but the finer points of it were starting to frustrate his mind. He'd always fathomed himself to be the tall, large, dominant type that he was, but for reasons that he couldn't figure out, he'd give the other side of the field a chance, and somehow, he found that he loved it.

"Just...I don't get it. Me, getting topped by a fox...such a tiny fox, too!"

Finding the beer was better for drinking than it was for conversation, James lifted the pint and took a deep gulp from the golden brew within. It satisfied the dry spot on the back of his tongue, but it didn't lend him any insight to the rather sudden change in his domineering preferences.

There's nothing wrong with enjoying physical pleasure, I guess, he rationalized. But after just sticking my toes in the water, I'm ready to jump in without a life preserver. That doesn't feel like something I'd be into, but it's the only damn thing I can think about anymore!

The same bar where he'd met the fox just a couple weeks before was his usual haunt, and even though he was seen leaving with the vulpine that topped him, James' reputation in the bar, not to mention all over town, was safe for the moment.

If he was going to indulge in his fantasies one more time, he had to be sure that it was with someone he didn't recognize, and preferably, someone who wasn't going to stick around once the deed was done.

For the first time in his life, he was annoyed by the fact that he knew every face and every story in the bar, save for one man sitting down the way from him.

Don't think I've ever seen him in here before, James thought. He's kinda thick, but he's shorter than I am, and just a bit smaller...he might do?

In his current situation, James didn't have the right to be picky about who he went to bed with, but he could have done much worse than he was currently trying to.

Though they'd never met, James was already starting to come around to the kindly stare of the stranger. He was clearly of canine descent, but James couldn't put his finger on exactly what species the man was. His intricate fur pattern was fun to gaze upon, and though he could only see the corner of it, there was a soothing, genuine warmth in his eyes that the wolf was growing rather curious about.

Forget might. He's like striking gold in a silver mine, James didn't have to convince himself any further than that. "Hey, a couple shots of bourbon here, hm?" he gestured to the bartender with a pair of digits, and within seconds, the drinks were being poured by a man who knew what to expect next.

The drinks hardly had a chance to sit upon the counter before James picked them up and took a seat next to the stranger at the bar, pushing one of the tiny glasses in front of him.

"They told me that people in this town were friendly," the man looked down into the brown liquid and grinned. "You're going above and beyond that reputation."

"It's just the way people are here. We want to make sure that outsiders know that they're welcome. We don't get quite as many of them as we used to," James fudged an explanation as a conversation starter. "It's rarer still that they're quite as handsome as you are."

The stranger was in the middle of taking his shot when he cocked a brow and set the glass down slowly, the thick rim hitting the wood with a quiet tok."Awfully forward of you to go calling me something like that when we've only just met, isn't it?"

James didn't have a good joke or half-truth prepared for that. "Just...being honest," he admitted. "It was a bit forward of me, though. I do apologize."

"Accepted, but don't worry about it," the man replied. "I'm not allergic to compliments or anything."

A clever grin followed, and James finally took the stool next to him when he saw the welcoming expression. "That's good. Someone like you would probably be dead in a day if they were."

"I said I wasn't allergic to compliments," he restated. "That's just plain ol' flattery."

"Is it too much?"

"You are laying it on a little thick, but I can't say that I mind. You mind if I buy you one back?"

Bills were already being fished out of a wallet as James felt a bashful warmth creeping into his face. "I certainly wouldn't be opposed."

"Fair's fair," came a brief and straightforward reply. A ten-dollar bill sat on the counter as the bartender grabbed a fresh pair of glasses, pouring James his usual, and waiting for the murmur of "anything's good" from the stranger before filling his shot with the same.

James couldn't help rushing through his shot the moment it was set before him, but he was grateful for the confident warmth that surged through his belly as the alcohol settled in. "I can't thank you enough for that. I was just about to lose my buzz," he admitted, realizing that he'd left his beer by the other seat.

"On a Friday night, too? We can't have that," the man suggested. "We'll have to get another round once we're done with these, mister...?"

"Call me James," he said, "And this one's on me."

"Zech," the canine made his own greeting, "And I'm glad to accept your generosity, if you let me get the next one."

James snickered. "Deal, but we'd better put a stop to it after that. We don't want to get too carried away."

"After the way you came strolling over to me with a pair of drinks in your paws? The whole reason you're talking to me right now is because you want to get carried away," Zech claimed. "You don't have to be bashful about your intentions, James. I'm not stupid."

It was rude to assume one's sexual orientation before you ever met them. Most of the time, James was lucky enough to stumble across someone who was willing to play, but he knew he was taking a risk every time he jumped to that conclusion.

Zech's response still floored him just a bit, and left him tripping not over his own feet, but his words. "W-well, no. Of course you're not stupid, but-

"But nothing," Zech cut in. "You're not hanging out in this dive because you like the décor. You're here to pick up someone to fuck...is that right?"

The way that Zech cut right to the chase gave James the feeling that he wasn't a perfect specimen just because of his handsome grin or his thick, powerful body.

He was just the kind of domineering creature that he was looking to get into bed with, but Zech seemed respectful enough; James would still have to say the words if he wanted to find out what his new friend was like behind closed doors.

"That m-might be the case," he admitted nervously. "You're awfully quick on the uptake."

"I'm not saying that it's rare for someone to come over and try to make a connection with free drinks and a 'fuck me' look in their eyes, but it's uncommon enough that I'm not gonna miss the boat, James. You got a place nearby, or are we gonna have to use the alley behind the bar?"

If he wasn't worried at all about his reputation, James would have gone for the latter option in a heartbeat.

**

The small apartment where James first broke his character only weeks before was just the right setting for Zech to make a statement.

It was cozy without being small, clean without being sterile, and not even a hint of sound traveled through the walls.

"You're quite the popular regular, James. I didn't think we were ever going to get out of there," Zech kept the conversation going after James entered his own home with a bit of an awkward silence. "Seemed like everyone wanted to get a piece of you before you went home for the night."

"They know that I don't usually make a second appearance in the same day," James suggested. "I guess I do have some good friends, though."

"Those kinds of friends?"

James snickered. "I know I came on a little bit strong, but I promise that I don't go home with every good looking guy that finds their way in the door."

"I'd wager not. You have a specific type, don't you?" Zech assumed. "Though...I have to admit, I didn't think I would quite be what you were looking for. Guys your size tend to go for the slim, tiny ones..."

"I guess there is some truth to the stereotype," James admitted with a quick gulp. "I'm more the exception to the rule, though. That's why I picked you."

Zech snickered as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door. "Because you wanted a challenge?"

"Because you looked like you could dominate me in every aspect of the word."

This time, it was the coywolf who was caught off guard. The hybrid cocked a brow, even as his lips curled into a knowing grin. "So, the big guy has a soft spot that needs some attention; is that it?"

The shift in his tone was so rapid that James couldn't help feeling a little nervous, but the tiger was already out of the cage. Before he could express any further concern, Zech opened his arms and pinned James against the drywall, narrowly avoiding the entertainment center.

James' sigh of relief was cut short by a wince of pain as Zech sunk his fangs into the tender neck of the taller canine. "Nnngh! Z...Zech, that's...that's too much!"

A chuckle came as the first reply. "I sure hope it isn't," the thick, powerful hybrid whispered into the fresh mark of his bite. "You might not make it through the night if that's the case."

Shuddering with genuine delight and the tiniest quiver of fear, James slumped back against the wall, his shoulders unable to lift against the pinning press of Zech's paws. "Speak for yourself. Once I get in control, you're g-gonna eat those words!"

"Like I'd let you have control; that's cute."

James flattened his ears and tried once again to lean up against Zech's weight, but the coywolf was even stronger than his frame would suggest. "C'mon...p-please! I want to be on top this time!"

"Dunno what brought the change of heart on, but you might wanna put it in your back pocket," Zech suggested. Keeping James pressed back with just one paw, his claws raked deep into the fur of the timber wolf and taunted his flesh with the promise of greater pain as his digits moved down along his back. "I don't do the bottom bitch role, James. Unless you wanna spend the night jerking off, you'd better change your tune really quick."

Getting topped by a truly dominant male was the reason that James brought Zech home in the first place. He wasn't sure why his feelings became conflicted at the most poignant moment, but Zech put all those rebellious thoughts to bed as his paw dipped into the timber wolf's pants.

His pawtips crept right past the narrow lining of a jockstrap and snuck under James' tail, pressing a pair of digits right to the warm, tempting pucker.

"D...Damn it, Zech! That isn't fair!" he groaned, his hips arching back into the touch and giving away how desperate he was to be taken, even if his words kept arguing with his actions.

One finger penetrated the heated orifice relentlessly, even when James tried to protest. "I don't play fair, James, and something tells me that you're going to be very happy about that in a few moments."

Already unable to overpower the hybrid, James felt his knees growing weak at the continued advances. His footpaws trembled against the carpet as he tried to stand his ground, but like a hungry shark, Zech could taste blood in the water.

He'd be able to take James anytime he wanted, any way he wanted, with no apology for being as rough as he pleased.

"You s-sure are a lotta talk," James groaned, but he knew that he couldn't resist Zech any longer. He was even proud of himself for holding back for so long, but his innermost desires were winning the day, as a coy grin took hold of his lips. "You really think you can back it up?"

It wasn't the affirmative wish to be dominated that Zech was looking for, but he knew that it was the best he would get. Keeping his digit buried in the depths of the timber wolf, he tugged James away from the wall and maneuvered him to the back of the couch, slumping him over it and pushing his rump high in the air.

"You're biting off more than you can chew, little guy."

His thumb popped from James' tailhole and left it gaping just enough to invite further penetration. Jeans were rushed off of his thick, powerful thighs in a hurry; James was lucky enough to sneak a peek of Zech's member trapped within the tight confines of a jockstrap before it was yanked away, as well.

The momentary view of a bulge was a feast for the eyes, but the feel of Zech pressing his full, pulsing cock against James' pucker was a pleasure greater than any visual buffet could ever provide.

James became instantly thankful for the couch under his torso as his legs quivered. His footpaws reached just to the floor in his compromised state, and even when he pushed with all his might against Zech, he was met with a firm paw to the back, keeping him bent over and submissive.

The coywolf had taken the reins, and he was a perfectionist; he wasn't letting go until the timber wolf was fully compliant.

"We'll j-just see about th...thaaaat..." James did all he could to sound defiant as precum aided the first delicious stroke of Zech's manhood against his prepared asshole. The tapered tip dipped inside for a glorious moment before popping back out, a tease that was purely by design.

A pouting James was set to protest when Zech leaned fully over his body and drove his length home, easing the tip into the slender lupine and pumping hard from the hip when he was firmly buried.

The timber wolf was instantly reminded of the joys of being submissive to someone who knew what they were doing.

"Hard to believe someone like you could be s-so tight," Zech grunted, his paws free to busy themselves with new tasks as James nearly went limp over the couch. The coywolf's weight was enough as he leaned fully into James' back, but Zech couldn't help gripping James by the wrists and tugging his arms back, finding his own creative means of gaining leverage; each thrust to follow would be brutal compared to the first. "Unless you're not the little cocksleeve you claimed to be?"

James sucked in a breath the best that he could. His eyes shrunk down in mingled panic and pleasure as he struggled to find air, pinned just right that his torso wouldn't expand over the back of the couch.

"Nothing to say in your defense, hm? I'm sure I can help you find the words, you little bitch..."

The new angle of Zech's hips was a blessing as his body lifted just slightly before the next hump. James gasped and cried out as his inner walls were forced to accommodate every inch of the hybrid behind him, but the blissful moment was only allowed to last that long before a series of quick, choppy pumps shook James from head to toe.

His own length was bouncing, partially stiff and dripping precum to the floor as he relented control of his body to the thicker male. "L...Looking for p-praise? I'm not t-that easy..."

"That's fine."

James blinked. Even in the throes of passion, Zech was able to sneak in a curveball. "What?"

"You don't have to sing my praises," Zech replied simply. "I'll just pump this little ass full o' cum and be on my way, then..."

The timber wolf hated that Zech always seemed to know just what to say to get his way, and further hated himself for being so easily baited by it.

Gritting his fangs and trying not to whimper, he utterly failed to fight off his pleading nature. "Please, no! You...you can't just leave like that!"

"So you want me to fill you up?"

"Yes!"

Zech picked up the pace with every answered question. Precum flung in thin strands from James' member as it bounced with the force of each pass. "And you want it more than once?"

"_Nngh..._a-as many times as you can, yes!"

"That's what I thought, cocksleeve."

Pinning James under his full weight once more, Zech acted the role of a proper canine and bit down on the scruff upon the timber wolf's neck. A quick yelp escaped his lips, but past that, James was too bogged down with ecstasy to do more than whimper and pant with exasperation.

For his part, Zech could have given his new partner the benefit of a moan or a cry, but all he offered was a series of low, heated grunts as his fangs kept a tight grip on the loose, tender flesh. His arms slipped around James' thighs, claws keeping his paws anchored to his fur and leaving deep, harsh scratches as he stayed as close as he could, their bodies missing only one more link.

The thick, plentiful knot at the base of Zech's rod was already bumping against James and spreading his tailhole wider with each pass. James couldn't find the words to beg for it, but Zech was past the point of a dominant game, now.

He was pumping away with canine instinct, and that was all he needed. One leg kicked up onto the back of the couch for even greater leverage, and with a distinct schlip , the thick, round bulb passed into James, pushing the seed right from his length.

As Zech tensed and clenched around James, pouring the plentiful yield of his cum into his ass, the timber wolf sprayed his own mess across the floor uncontrollably, his tool bouncing with each throb of orgasmic delight that passed him. He whined under the weight of Zech and his decidedly canine approach, but the coywolf didn't budge an inch, his knot keeping them tied long past the last quake of bliss that they shared.

"I hope you were serious about your wishes, James."

The timber wolf perked an ear as his scruff was finally released.

"That was just round one, y'know. We're a long way away from wrapping this one up."

Quivering with anticipation at the thought, James smiled back at Zech and waited for his knot to deflate, wishing he could have a better view of the mess that would pour out when it did...