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For Nash, there was nothing better than smoking a fat blunt while a pair of the softest lips you've ever felt wrap themselves around your dick and take you to town right until your balls are scratching their chin. It made his toes curl with how good it felt, fighting the urge to shudder each time he felt his head slip down the bull's throat. He didn't hide his own moans though, soft as they might have been, but each breathy sigh of pleasure just seemed to spur the male on further. One paw played with the feline's balls, rolling them against the flat of his palm or lightly pulling them down, while the other made sure to keep the big cat's hefty length held steady so that his blowjob continued uninterrupted. Nash was impressed. The cock-sucker hadn't even broken for air for what must have been fifteen minutes.

The panther leaned back where he sat perched on the edge of the beaten pick-up as he exhaled a bellow of smoke into the evening air. Hardly a soul stirred in the empty parking lot save for the passing car or three, leaving nothing but the two men to do as they pleased, getting blown in public while both of them were stoned. Nash didn't care. The sheriff was easy. He took another drag and let it simmer inside him before breathing out once more. In nothing but a tank top and the cargo shorts unzipped at the fly, with weed bubbling inside him, he felt completely relaxed as he soaked the lasting sunlight on his greyed and blackened fur. His dark ebony fur was left bare, though the fur did little to hide his rather trimmed frame. He wasn't exactly much to look at, he realised what with his 'alternative' appearance of piercings and dyed fur, but for what he lacked in size elsewhere he made up for in other departments.

He couldn't help but find himself a little excited at the thought as his cock throbbed inside the wet mouth, but then it had always been a turn-on for him. Most guys would take one look at him and chalk him up to be a punk bitch who'd turn tail for any male with a pulse. The neon pink mohawk that just screamed daddy issues and the number of bar piercings through the bridge of his muzzle, his ears, not to mention all the other unmentionable places that declared how much of a slut to pain he could be; it was all too easy for them to make the judgement, but Nash could turn the tables quick enough where he'd be balls-deep inside them sooner or later, one way or the other.

Besides, he was used to the stares and dirty looks. Ever since the home, ever since he'd hung out with Brock.

His free paw slipped between his legs and tussled the burning auburn fur of the male throating his dick as he idly reminisced, but he only earned a response from the bull once his fingers tightened through the ginger locks and thrust the poor male down hard on his crotch. A snicker escaped him as he watched him struggle and gag as all ten inches slammed to the back of his muzzle and deeper down. Call it a mean streak, but he loved it when he could see his bitches suffer.

"Who's my pretty little cock-sucker?"

Brock glanced up at the punkish feline, eyes attempting a scowl, but his gaze met Nash's and his insubordination just melted away. Struggling around the cock sliding down his throat, the bull managed to choke out something resembling words,

I am.

His grin only grew larger as the bull spluttered around his shaft, speaking on command. Nash let go of Brock's fur so the Red Angus could resume his own tempo again with those lips still wrapped around the fat shaft of the panther's cock, as he took another drag of the blunt. The hot smoke soured in his chest, but the high felt incredible. Shockingly cheap for what it was too, but then the guy selling it wasn't exactly looking to make his millions in drugs.

Nash tapped the bull on the top of his head, offering him the blunt for his own share. Eyes looked up at him, between the lasting remnants of the spliff and the cat's face, before he pulled off the swollen member. Ten slick, engorged inches of prime feline meat spilled from his mouth in gross and glorious fashion, soft and pastel pink flesh punctuated with a ladder of yet more piercings, one for every inch that hung from Nash's crotch like a third leg. The bull's face was slick with his own spit and drool, not to mention the slathers of pre that seemed to leak from his cock like a burst water pipe.

"Fuck man," Brock gasped as he finally came up for air. Having nearly a foot of panther dick down your throat would probably leave you a little oxygen starved. But the bull sucked on the blunt as he was starved for it, a hefty chunk of ash curling away as he took down what had to be a hefty lungful of smoke. When he let it go it billowed from his nostrils and his mouth, a glazed look to his eyes as he topped up his buzz, "You didn't tell me you'd gone up a gauge."

Nash grinned, paw wrapping around his dripping cock as he worked his full length,

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"I can feel them pressing against my throat."

"I can see them pressing against your throat," he retorted, smacking his fat head against the bull's face, his already damp face getting covered in strands of ooze and spit, "It feels fucking amazing." Brock couldn't help the whimper that escaped him, especially as Nash dragged that head right back across his waiting lips.

"The feeling's mutual."

"Good," Nash took back the blunt as he hopped off the bed of the truck, boots kicking against the tarmac, "'Cause I'm about this close to nuttin' and you know what I wanna do."

"Ah fuck man, for real?" Momentary apprehension flashed on the bull's face, "Out here? You want to get into that stuff now?"

"Fuck you man, we had a deal. I get you pot 'cause you know there's no chance in hell of you stashing it at your uncle's place, and in return you let me use your throat." The cat again swiped his cock across Brock's face, hitting him harder, the sound much heavier as the full weight struck against his cheek, "I even gave you a break since that dick had already had your ass tonight, so don't be a pussy and just give me what I want."

Brock sighed, defeated, as a deal was a deal. As unlikely a pair as they were, with the bull raised as an army brat and Nash making his way rebelling to high sin throughout his teenage years, their bond was just as strong now as it had been when they were kids in foster care.

"Fine," he huffed, mouth already open ready to take the big cat's bigger monster, "just take it easy, okay?"

"I'm making no promises." The all too lecherous tone in the feline's voice was a poor veneer to hide his excitement. Without a moment to spare he began feeding his length back into the bull's waiting maw, lips closing around his shaft. Each disappearing barbell was like the measure of how deep he was going. Quickly the first four or five slipped out of sight, but as six and seven moved closer to the bull's lips, the strain became more prominent. Normally Nash would just let Brock do his thing, he knew by now after years of sucking him off how best to treat him, but the cat was in a mood. Whether it was the weed or just the sight of the bull on his knees slurping down his dick, Nash needed to fuck.

He took one last draw on the blunt right to the end before flicking away the burnt stub, swilling and savouring the last of the taste on his tongue before exhaling. Now with both paws free he took Brock's head within his grasp, fingers laced about his ears, palms to his cheeks, thumbs stroking along the bridge of his snout. His intentions were all too clear, something which was not lost on the bull who stared up to meet Nash's gaze, expressing in silence a plea for mercy.

"Yeah, that's right baby," Nash chuffed as he began to thrust with his hips, "Keep looking up at me, show me what a real cock-suckin' whore you are." The cat's loose tongue always got dirty when he was high, but he knew the bull loved it. There never was an occasion where Nash's abuse hadn't left the bull hard and begging for more, and now was no exception as his pants tented obscenely. He gagged around the panther's cock as it began to push deeper. Seven inches deep and the feline was sliding himself deeper. The bull's neck was already swelling as Nash went in, his cock following throat as he humped his face. "You look so pretty wrapped around my dick like that."

He could feel his piercings tightly grinding against the male's throat, seven and soon eight entering the bull. Brock would have choked but it was becoming physically impossible to do much but squirm and struggle as Nash worked to hilt himself inside the warm muzzle. It felt euphoric to him, high and horny as he slammed his cock at the bull's mouth. He was getting close to his ninth piercing as he could sense he was beginning to fully cut off Brock's air flow. His size plugged him up to the point where there was nothing else but his dick, but it didn't stop the cat there. He could feel himself already close, but his high staved off the orgasm, leaving him to play a constant game of catch-up, chasing after release like a marathon. Nash would pull out, stopping only midway to let Brock gurgle a breath of air, before driving back in, dangerously close to his tenth and final barbell. His grip had gotten tighter on the bull's head, fingertips digging into Brock's skull as Nash's impulses took over. The bull was just a hole to be fucked now, something which the feline took every opportunity to remind him of,

"Yeah, choke on my cock, bitch," Nash grunted, hips grinding back and forth as he repeatedly buried his length into the bull, "You feel me inside you? Just a slut for some real man!"

The sounds Brock made as Nash rammed his throat were just delectable. Wet, messy, lewd, guttural, every slick sensation and strangled grunt as the panther fucked the bull's mouth. For Brock, it was a struggle to get anything out as he didn't escape the assault.

"Come on!" the cat spat, "Tell me, you feel that?"

Yes sir. Spit spluttered and drooled down his front as he barely could make the words through the dick riding down his throat.

"You're just a slut for my fat dick, ain't you?"

Yes sir!

"Fuckin' bitch, I'm so close, you ready for my load?" Brock struggled to say yes, but he must have managed it as Nash tossed his head to the air, teeth bared and gritted as he pumped several inches fast in and out of the bull's muzzle. His body felt tight, reverberating with the sharp inclement of orgasm, until finally the panther let out a harsh snarl.

He ripped his cock from the bull's throat, piercings scraping against him and leaving him trembling at the sudden exit, mouth still agape and dripping with slime. Nash's paw immediately went to his own length as he began to furiously stroke himself to completion, hips bucking at his own paw, while his head still slapped at Brock's tongue.

"Get ready for it, slut," Nash growled, huffing between heavy breaths, "I'm gonna cum. You keep it in your mouth, don't you dare swallow..."

Brock barely had a moment to think as within seconds of the command, hot seed was already shooting across his face, a flooded load jetting against his tongue and soaking into his maw. The bull did as he was told, the salty, sweaty taste of the cat's cum filling up quickly in astonishing amounts. But then Nash had always been a heavy cummer, almost as if the panther had poured a can of thick paint over the bull, and with just as thick in colour too. Pasty white seed plastered the bull's face as he continued to save the reservoir of cum in his waiting mouth.

"Ah fuck!" the panther sighed happily, the post-orgasm high blending into the drug-induced, as relaxing relief ran through his very bones, "Fuck yeah, best damn mouth in the town you got. We need to do this way more." Nash looked down upon his work, Brock's face a sticky, painted mess of his cum and own spit. "You look fucking gorgeous, you know that?" Pushing his thumb through the slick and gross slime, Nash toyed with the bull's open mouth, "Now it's time for the fun part."

It had been discovered relatively early on into the pair's sexual endeavours that the bull's gag reflex was near non-existent. That and due to his size, Brock could take even things down his throat far larger than should be possible. It had all started with Nash's own member, but the cat had pushed to see how far they could truly go, finding other well-endowed males, buying the biggest toys, until the cat had honed the bull's party trick into one they could break out at any party...

Nash pursed his fingers together as he slid them along the bull's tongue. His fingertips toyed with his maw, dancing along the edge of his throat and just teasing him at the entrance down. Of course there was a momentary reflexive choke, but he knew Brock could control himself and calm his excitement. The smell was growing stronger with each passing second, the stale stench of his own load, stark on the tongue, sharper in the nostrils. As he moved his paw through the warm, sticky ooze just intensified the senses, Nash's softening dick dribbling the last of his cum down the bull's front while his paw slid deeper.

His fingers slipped down the curve of the bull's neck, stroking against the end of his tongue and beginning of his throat. His thumb was still just caught on Brock's cheek, four digits deep in the bull while Nash played with his own load. Brock, through straggling specks of cum still lingering on his brow, looked up with pitiful submission at the panther, though all he was met with was a lewd grin as the big cat continued as he pleased.

The thumb was moved inwards, joining the rest of the feline's paw, as his fist was formed within the bull's mouth. Stretching Brock to the limit, Nash pushed hard on his arm as his paw began to slide in, lubed and lined down the oesophagus it was easy work as the panther popped his knuckles deeper into the bull. The kneeling male struggled, body shuddering and buckling under the pressure, but the sounds were blocked, strangled beneath the fist now blocking his maw. Nash was already slipping in to the wrist, his paw bloating against the bovine's neck as cum and saliva squelched and oozed around him. He could feel his cock twitching again in arousal, the sight of the big male beneath him struggling around his fist, utterly subservient to the panther's dominating needs.

"Good bitch! Swallow that fist!" Brock's eyes watered, and try as he might to speak no noise could come out, just gurgles and bubbles as his body squelched through the slime in his throat. There was no way he could respond to the verbal onslaught, he just sank deeper into the submission. Beneath it all, he wasn't aware he had even came himself, his tent now gone left behind with just a dark, damp spot that continued to grow. But the panther could see, and the toe of his boot tapped at the bull's now soft dick and the sagging wet load in his crotch.

Nash chortled at the sight, rubbing his own spent dick across the bull's face and smearing the staining, drying cum deeper into his fur in further humiliation of the male, "what's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"