FSE

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Moghattan on the rocks.

© Tsumi Moogle '18

Characters © Themselves.

Buried in the depths of his jacket and scarf against the bite of the evening's chill, Tsumi considered the message on his phone. The lazy response from his friends, promising to wait for him to get into the club. He'd gotten ready, dressed, and all but raced into the heart of the city amidst the threatening snow clouds, only to spy the line of the club wrapped about the building, and no sign of his friends.

'Hey, where are you?' he'd tapped away hastily, hoping against hope that they'd gone for food somewhere first.

The simple response of 'Inside.' had cut a little harsher than the sudden gust that swooped through the city like a vengeful spirit.

Lifting his gaze, the mog watched with a small clouded sigh as the bouncer slipped the velvet rope across the entrance of the fresh new club. They were at capacity. With that line, he wasn't getting in anytime before midnight. With a shivery ruffle of his wings undder his jacket, the mog turned on his foot to make his way home.

He nearly made it to his bus-stop, before a small light caught his eye. An immodest sign, hung neatly down a more immaculately kept alley, with a tall snow leopard standing outside the door. The brick-work side of the nondescript building betrayed nothing of what lay inside, just that warm orange glow overhead like a small beacon.

As the first thick flake of snow tumbled its way past his vision, the moogle made up his mind, and glancing up and down the street for traffic, crossed the road to offer up his ID to the slightly skeptical bouncer. Their air rather more polite than imposing as they confirmed his age, and brushed a button to open the sliding black glass doors.

'Please make use of the foyer to the right, sir. It's quite warm inside.' the bouncer gave a small nod, and turned his gaze back out over the street as the mog nodded.

The background noise of the city fell away inside. The wooden paneling of the polished floor expected him to tap and wipe his boots, before he lightly disrobed in the offered foyer. Slipping his items on a hook, a wolf waiting at a desk offered him a slip of paper in exchange, though his dark eyes seemed to trace over the slim figure on show. For the wolf's well pressed button-up shirt, vest and slacks, the mog felt a little underdressed for the almost still air of the place as he took his ticket stub.

Finally, he stepped to the second doorway inside, the broad wooden doors an oily black gleaming a little in the soft, warm light. Pressing on the silver handle, it swung open easier than he'd expected, and gave a gentle billow of the warmer air inside. Tinged with a scent of what he could only class as 'refinement'. The subtle, sweet, yet woody scent sent small images of men and women in snug three-pieces, and figure hugging cocktail dresses, high-powered business executives, candle-lit dinner and stiff-backed staff honed to sublime attention and poise.

And stepping through, part of his expectations were not wrong. Music played: a soft and understated style of jazz, enough to keep a comfortable, inviting mood, without being overtly loud, or attention grabbing.

Tables littered the place, spindly, dark things overlooking one-way mirrors that overlooked a section of the city park, that by now was beginning to look like a glittery snow-globe, several settled by people with more than a little money to throw around.

A long bar wrapped along one bright white wall, criss-crossed by the dark shelves of dozens upon dozens of expensive labelled drinks and mixers.

And behind it, a couple of bar staff, in well serviced, but soundly kept white shirts, and black vests, so akin the wolf he'd met.

The buzz of his phone in his pocket broke the mog from his reverie as he fumbled it from his pocket. A message from his friends, asking where he was. Biting back the urge to be waspish, he simply replied with 'Didn't want to wait, sorry.' and setting his phone to silent, made his way to the bar, slipping gently onto one of the dark stools.

'My my, we don't get many of your sorts in here.' mused a warm voice, as Tsumi glanced up again. One of the barstaff, a tall, dark-furred fox modestly mixing a shaker in his deft paws.

Tsumi inclined his head as he took in the thick fall of midnight hair obscuring one of those eyes the colour of honeycomb. The curve of the handsome fox's jaw quirked in a warm smile as he spun the cocktail mixer over his palm. His shirt was rolled up behind his elbows, showing off his strong forearms, a more ashy shade than his hair.

The stunned silence that met the fox's words drew the barkeep's smile wider, and tapping a finger before the mog, wordlessly excused himself to effortlessly pour another patron's drink.

The sway and saunter of the fox felt equal parts show, and pure charisma, to the mog. The bob and sway of that pillowy looking tail, similarly shaded to his arms, evenly avoiding either side of the bar, or the wall, spoke of a casual control to the handsome figure.

The soft glow of his pompom alerted the mog that he was staring, and blinking sheepishly, he turned his gaze to glance up and down the bar. Nowhere held a price-list, including the wall behind the fox. The gleam of the numerous labels rose a small voice in the mog's mind.

'If you have to ask, you can't afford it.'

And as if reading his mind, the fox eased smoothly into view, catching the moogle's sky-blue eyes with his own and grinned gently.

Tsumi's cheeks darkened as his pom fluttered pink for a moment.

'Something to wet your palate?' the fox offered, a tilt of his head this way, and then so subtly the other drew the mog's gaze about. His tail swished knowingly.

'Ah.. Kuponut sunrise?' Tsumi asked meekly. The bar looked like it would be the sort that could provide.

'Not the sunset? People say it's one of my signatures.' the fox offered with that buttery smooth rumble of his voice and a soft brush of his tongue along his lips. The moogle swallowed.

'You get those requested often, kupo?'

'Not as often as I'd like, perhaps.' the fox gave an easy shrug.

'I bet.' Tsumi murmured under his breath, but for the gentle music and quieter air in the bar, the fox heard, and gave a soft chuckle. 'J-just the sunrise, please.'

'Coming right up.' the fox smiled as he turned, his thick braid swishing over his shapely back.

The way the fox got to work, scooping ingrediants, adding this and that to the quirkily shaped glass with an almost playful, showman-like air, dashing and dripping a bit of a bottle, mixing several components with several elegant tricks earning appreciative grins from his captive audience of one, before the last measured pour filled the glass, and a small pinch of a finely ground mix sprinkled over the top of the yellow-red mix.

The curiously familiar scent of kupo-nuts made Tsumi's wings flutter and in spite of himself, he drew a deeper breath, grinning.

With a gentle brush of his finger, Damien eased the finished drink to the shorter frame and lightly lipped his kupo-nut dusted thumb. The twitch and wag of the tail was perfectly honest in its delight, and the fox grinned over the mog as he rumbled smoothly 'Mmmh, strawberries.'

Tsumi was glad he had hesitated to simply admire the fox's eloquent work, the mingle of colours and the gentle fall of kupo-nut through his drink. He was certain the fox would have been wearing half the drink from the way he exhaled so promptly in surprise to the remark.

Stirring the drink, he managed to take a drink to cover his response, and for a moment managed to properly lose himself in the perfect blend of flavours. The soft tang, the sweeter buzz, the supple warmth, and the flavours playing more of an undertone to those of the kuponut as he nursed, eyes lidded.

Coconut, cherry, vanilla, and something unfamiliar, that he couldn't quite make out, but had a shrewd feeling he knew what it was. He could feel his pom's glowing response to those flavours, and opening his eyes, caught himself staring into the fox's eyes. The golden gaze gazed back casually, the handsome grin spreading a little more as the mog murmured a soft 'wow. That's even better than the ones my uncle makes, k'po.'

'Good pick-me-up, those.' nodded the bartender, 'Few more though and someone will probably have to.' He leaned on the bar to regard his patron with a soft chuckle. 'So, what brings you to my modest neck of the woods? A date, perhaps? ..No. A fun night out with- Ahh.'

Tsumi realized the fox's words had made his pom glow before he could catch himself. The soft pulse in colour made him realize the fox's awareness of his kind.

'Well, between you and me, I think my company is rather more palatable.' the suave vulpine raised an eyebrow, before dipping a hand into the mix of crushed kuponut, and reaching over the bar, ran his supple, dusted finger-pad about the rim of the mog's glass, giving him a wink as he slipped off to serve another patron, lipping his finger again with a grin.

Tsumi blushed all the richer as he watched the fox sauntering off again, before lifting his glass.

His pom stayed its modest pink shade. Nothing shady in that free dusting. Lifting his drink to his lips, the mog shivered fondly for the spreading warmth of the alcohol, smiling at the extra wash of kuponut on his tastebuds.

Damien was his name, the fox revealed as the evening crept on. Tsumi responsibly pacing himself as he talked with the fox, finding his banter wonderfully engaging, and his ears keen to listen to the mog's modest woes, and whims and wishes, and, the pink-form imagined by the way those golden eyes traced his shape, heard several of them that he hadn't voiced.

'The place is only modestly new, but it's certainly starting to pick up.' Damien smiled as he nodded. His wait-staff working smoothly, drinks finding their way fluidly to patrons, without a heavy clunk, or spill. The music, soft as ever, seemed to suffuse the moogle after his second sunrise. Or perhaps it was the cadence of the fox's voice that matched that supple pitch, the motion of Damien's body caught in, or maybe leading the rhythm of the music.

So caught up in his own metaphysical musings, the mog realized the fox had again returned to his default position for the night, right before him.

'I could see you in an outfit like this.' The fox considered with a smile, brushing his fingers along his vest, trailing his fingers along his mid section a moment as he smiled. 'I've got a position vacant, if you think you'd be interested. I'd even be happy to talk it over after we close up shop, if you think you might stay 'till then.'

'You think so, kupo?' Tsumi quipped with a sheepish smile, trying to imagine himself in the ferret waiter's position, manouvering so fluently about frames and chairs. 'I mean, I currently dance between classes, so the timing would probably work out.'

'Ooh.. I'd love to see you dance sometime.' The fox rumbled warmly as the mog finished his drink, and substituted the next with water. 'What sort do you do?'

'Oh, mostly contemporary, used to do some break-dancing, but it was kinda bad on my knees. And ball-room when I was little, but it was too stiff.'

'The dance or your partners?' quipped the fox, earning a soft snrkle from the mog. 'I have a thing for interpretive dance, myself. Rather enjoy a bit of a show with story.'

Glancing about the bar, Tsumi nodded to himself, he could see that quite easily, in the nature of the bar itself. The contrasts of the history of the building in the brick-work feature wall adjacent to the bar's shining and rich new airs. The fresh and clean look out of the wall-spanning window over the crystalline view of the city park, glittering under the moonlight. Subdued, perhaps, by the tinting on the window, but a wonderous sight all the same.

Eventually, the ferret slipped past the fox behind the bar, smiling as he brushed his coworker.

'It's nearly one, sir.' the sleek smaller form offered as a gentle reminder, and glancing at his watch, the fox nodded.

'I should be about my break then. Do try not to pilfer my new friend won't you, Wesley?' the fox grinned, 'I'll be back soon, I'd invite you along, but, we're not supposed to have customers in the staff-room.' The fox gave a playful pout, making Tsumi wriggle gently and nod. The mog managed to stop himself from uttering an 'I'll be here!', unable to imagine himself anywhere else for the evening.

Perhaps except...

'You should stay 'till after closing.' Wesley grinned as he busied himself setting out a tray and beginning to mix drinks before the mog.

'He did mention we might talk about a job position here after closing.' nodded the mog, earning a toothy grin from the mustelid.

'Oh, I bet!' the slinky form giggled. 'Though talking will probably one of the last things you do after closing. Especially if the boss offers to take you home.' he gave the pink form a soft wink, 'He likes you.'

Tsumi felt the heat in his cheeks renew, rather swifter than earlier in the night. The sunrise was well at work in his system still. 'Th-the "boss"?' he quipped in an attempt to swerve the conversation.

'He hasn't told you he's the owner? Always so modest, that fox.' Wesley feined a huff and straightened up with his tray. Tsumi sitting stunned as the ferret slunk his way back out among the soft chatter and warm air.

The mog idly sipped at his drink as he waited. Shifting it subtly to lip over the extra dusting the fox had gifted him, he couldn't help the meek smile that tugged at his lips, or his blush as he swayed his feet. Glancing over the clock almost impatiently, that subtle, unplacable flavour in his drink a poor substitute for the fox he knew it represented, warming though it was.

When at last the fox slid smoothly back behind the bar, Tsumi found himself quite unable to resist the smile that spread to his face, earning a softer one in kind.

'Good break, kupo?' he smiled,

'If lonely.' Damien grinned, feigning a pout. 'I hope Wesley wasn't too boorish company?'

'No, he was really polite, k'po. ..And enlightening.' Tsumi added with a fresh flush through his cheeks, busying his muzzle with another sip as Damien grinned.

'It can't be anything too bad, if you're still here.' The fox chuckled warmly, Tsumi stirring and shaking his head.

Taking his drinks slow, the mog quite easily whittled the evening hours away amidst his chatter with the fox. Recognising after his fourth glass that he was quite buzzed, he tried to keep to water, though he could see the fox almost huffing at his polite, giggly refusals for more booze.

It wasn't the clock that told him of the hour, so much as the steady dwindling of the upper-crust clientelle. Bodies rising to pay their tab, and seeing themselves out, often arm in arm, where couples were concerned, or with a slightly raised air of joviality in the business minded.

The band too, had packed up for the evening, he realized in a small moment of clarity when the soft, smooth jazz no longer hinted at the back of his mind. The waiters too wound up their shifts, adjusting chairs, giving the place a wipe down and finishing replacing their crystal glasses in neat rows and stacks, before bidding Damien a polite good evening.

Catching Wesley's eye as the ferret headed past, Tsumi grinned for the wink the slinky form offered, before he vanished through the large doors leading out.

It was just the two of them, he realized, as he turned his gaze back to Damien, who was softly untying the small satin ribbon tying off the neck of his shirt. Despite the aknowledgement that the bar was closed, the vulpine was still perfectly welcoming in his demeanour as he smoothly padded about the bar, and smiled.

'So, think you're up to talk about that position I've got lined up for you?' Damien asked, inclining his head almost beckoningly to the mog as his easy gait lead him to one of the cushy booths along another wall.

Tsumi found himself rising, and following in the wake of the handsome form, smiling as Damien settled down and gave an appreciative sigh, and settling down opposite him.

'Nono, we've had a bench between us all night.' Damien grinned as he reached, plucking the mog's hand up to guide him softly about to set the pink form beside him. 'Much better.'

'We could go to a cafe or somewhere, k'po. Get some food while we talk.' offered the mog with his face still a brilliant shade, earning a soft shake from the fox.

'We could, but I prefer to eat things that agree with me.' he winked softly, making Tsumi giggle. It was a little hard to imagine the fox attacking a plate of diner food...

'So.. about this position..?' Tsumi prompted gently as the fox's honeycomb coloured eyes watched him. That infallible smile inched a little closer, as Damien nodded, and keeping a gentle hold on his patron's hand, leaned in to give the mog's lips the barest of brushes with his own.

Eyes widening, the mog squeaked bashfully, though the soft wash of the vulpine's amused breath over his face remained close. 'D-Damien..?'

'I don't think you'd be too upset with the perks of it.' The fox winked gently, as Tsumi's ears perked right up. The vulpine hadn't really said a job at the bar...

'Is.. is it alright? Here, I mean, kupo?'

'I'd be happy to show you back to my place after, if you'd like.' the fox offered with a quirked eyebrow.

Imagining the stylish sort of place someone like the fox must have.. the thought of his plush and supple bedsheets in a tangled mess about them made Tsumi nod gently.

'Yes please.'

Rumbling low, the fox gently cupped the mog's cheek and leaned in again, this time tilting to scissor his lips against Tsumi's. There was a slow, but practiced grace and strength in the fox's kissing; the parting of his lips; the brush of his tongue seeking a modest entrance, and exploring carefully when the smaller frame all but sank into his embrace.

The feel of the fox's body under that handsome suit was just as Tsumi had envisioned it. One hand held himself in place at the fox's shoulder, his muzzle caught and entertained as the larger form gently wrangled his tongue with his own, nursing on it tenderly. His free hand traced slowly, exploring the curves and lines of the fox's trim body. Musculature taut, and maintained, abdominals smooth with hints of striation and pebbling. His fingers fumbled the small buttons of the fox's vest, and shirt beyond that as Damien's hands plucked at his own, peeling away the mog's shirt, and gently laying the smaller frame back onto the cushy leather of the booth.

Trembling gently as the fox slowly plucked and pulled at his pants, Tsumi gasped as the kiss abated. The fox looming over him, looking quite meaningfully into the mog's eyes, searching.

Though the gaze was intense, Tsumi nodded under it, holding it as he acknowledged the silent request. And the next moment, his pants tugged up his legs, drawing off one leg, as the fox's muzzle dipped, and this time traced his neck and collar-bone. Toying nibbles, line-brushing grooms and a throaty rumble that reverberated through him, had the mog's eyes aflutter, and his legs wrapping about the vulpine's frame as he heard the soft shiff of Damien's slacks pooling under him.

With the fox's tall body pressed over him, the soft, warm air of the bar grew warmer still. The taste that the mog had recognised in his drink drifted in the air from the fox as Damien growled gently, brushing his hand over the mog's chest, and the other guided an eager firmness up against Tsumi's thigh, and brushed along his backside.

The fox's lips lifted to find the mog's once more, and distracting the slinky pink frame, slowly pressed himself forward.

One hand bracing the seat, the other lifted lace fingers with the moogle as Tsumi tensed beneath him. It was evident the mog was practiced, but the fox was delighted by the silken tightness wrapping about his length as he sank forward slowly.

The legs about his middle tensed as Tsumi gave a tiny aching moan, easing from the kiss to rest his forehead to the fox's, squeezing that larger hand and gasping as he accustomed slowly. The stretch quite sizeable, but at the least, manageable as he panted lowly.

Taking his time in hilting, Damien smiled gently, wetting his lips with a smile as he whispered a soft 'Mmm, strawberries.' over the mog's ears playfully.

The sheepish tuck of the smaller form's head under his chin made the fox smirk and beginning to draw back, he angled his length to draw a shakey gasp of delight from the mog's frame as he began to thrust.

Not just a garrish pistoning to slake himself, but a modest pace to draw out their mutual pleasure. The snug, tender spots within the pink frame that made Tsumi quiver and moan, the walls tensing, flexing, and wringing about his shaft their own exquisite reward as the fox took his time in properly loving the moogle.

Spots danced before his eyes as he rolled his hips up to meet the fox's thrusts. Each angled, poised motion grinding that well-shaped length along his snug walls. Every thrust dragged the air from his lungs, making him gasp another, drawing in the fox's scent, and holding it when he pecked along a neck and jawline, catching the passionate lips in kind as together they worked towards satiation.

The fox's trim abdominals arched and rolled, grinding over his groin in kind as Damien rutted, thrusting with a slow shift towards the more insistant, and needy.

The hand supporting the fox slipped up to grasp about his length, to squeeze and milk, causing the moogle in turn to bare down, clenching and arching as if on command.

Breaths mingling in the early morning air, the fox leaned, curling a little over his paramour. His muzzle brushed, and finally ommed over the mog's shoulder, as he hit his peak and fixated on his pace as it tightened, and grew rather more irrational.

The plunging of that slick heat so deep within the mog was no less intense though, and the grasp of the large fox's maw on his shoulder, and the keen pumping of his shaft drew Tsumi's head back, and his eyes closed. Teeth gritted, his breathing caught tight in his chest, before the almost frantic rutting and stroking sent him crashing over the edge with a cry that shook the otherwise peaceable silence of the bar.

The silken grasp as it went into spasm about his length was more than the fox could bare. That passionate cry, would have been a sound reward, but his own was bare moments behind, and rattled the mog as the fox began to erupt within him. Each pistoning thrust having a pace of finality about it, as each thrust slowed, and finally held snug within the mog, pulsing and throbbing with his racing heartbeat.

Sagging first, Tsumi gasped with his head spinning. The pleasure and ache soaking through him in equal, exquisite amounts, tinged well by the thick seed of the fox pooled within.

The fox sank a little atop him, before his hand gingerly released the mog's to rest on the leather beside the smaller frame's head.

Glancing down, Damien grinned for the sticky mess the cute thing had made of himself in their fun. Panting slow as his frame thrummed with delight, he slowly began to master himself again.

The pink form's eyes fluttered and slowly opened to glimpse the fox's face groggily. Giggling faintly, Tsumi uttered a breathless noise of delight, and with a gestured motion, sat up into the fox's lap with some assistance.

Damien gently peppered kisses along the mog's forehead, grinning as he savored the snug weight on his lap, wrapped tight about his shaft still. His arms draped lightly about the mog, the fox leaned in once more, Tsumi following suit, lidding his eyes.

It was not the soft brush of those supple lips that he expected, but instead a much thicker, stickier heat that greeted the leaning mog. Damien's jaws having parted smoothly, had eclipsed over the mog's head with a simple brush. His tongue snaked over the pink form's throat, whilst his fangs combed through headfur and nudged those large, splaying ears, and orange-glowing pompom back.

Opening his eyes in confusion when the slick heat of a tongue lathered his front, Tsumi found himself staring into an inky abyss. Snippets of light from the bar illuminating the undulating walls of the mottled throat. He gasped in shock, trying to draw back, before the arms grasped firm, and Damien's muzzle sealed about his neck.

The fox gave a thick, pleased groan as the mog's noted flavour spread over his tastebuds well. The exhausted frame struggled, but found no purchase except for the depths of his gullet as the fox leaned forward, swallowing.

The slick grasp of that gullet gripped like so many sets of the fox's supple hands brushing and tugging and coaxing him inexorably deeper, Tsumi feeling his shirt being drawn off his form entirely as his arms and torso were steadily engulfed.

Swallow by succulent swallow, Damien savoured the steady descent of the mog. The stretch of his squirmy frame within his gullet, and the wriggling squirm atop his lap bringing a fresh wring of pleasure to his length as he gave an indulgent grind to that wonderful rump.

A rump that he soon enough claimed into his maw, drawing the mog up at last from his lap, nearly lamenting having to do so as he grasped the shapely, squirming legs, divested easily of the mog's pants.

Straightening himself out, head tilted to the ceiling, the fox groaned at the steady slither of the delectable meal struggling himself deeper.

His belly slowly distended as shoulders after head, and torso sluicing after, Tsumi all but surged in past the snug sphinctre of his gut to pool within, curling over with delightful flexibility.

He could finally release those legs when just the squirming calves remained. One hand plucking away the moogle's shoes, the other resting over his swelling middle, as bulges became all the more evident and sluggishly slopped and stirred about.

Within, Tsumi whimpered as the walls churned easily, slicking him over and bundling, adjusting his frame into that gut proper. His attempts to push on the walls about him for purchase, to try and halt his descent easily overwhelmed by the give in the fox's gut, and the unyielding direction of that gullet packing ever more of him in.

The world felt chill on his feet,by comparison to the thick, steamy air, or what remained of it, within the depths of the fox's gut. Tsumi whimpered and shook his head, before he felt the tell-tale squish of Damien's tongue pressing his footpaws against the fox's palate. The fox rumbled about him, a roll of thunder, coincided by the bizzare sensation of what was unmistakably the vulpine's hands rubbing along his throat, and belly, indulging, delighting in the feel of him within.

Perhaps it was a daring show, maybe it was something the fox got off over, and was hard to explain to partners, maybe he was just really, -really- drunk and had fallen asleep at the bar..!

The fox grinned as he took at long, final swallow. Savoring the diminishing stretch of the mog down his throat, he groaned appreciatively, and relaxed in the booth as his gut finished settling out in his lap. He could make out the bulges and shapes easily.. the mog's head, his shoulders, his arms snaking under his inky fur, searching desperately..

Percolating up a thick belch, the fox grinned at the tautening of his gut about his patron turned early-breakfast. The scrambling squirms growing all the more frantic in the perhaps non-existant air.

Smacking his lips, the lingering fruity flavour was a wonderful parting gift, he mused, and cleaning himself up with the mog's discarded shirt, slowly redressed himself and groaned with the effort of rising after such a heavy meal, and hearty reaming.

As he turned down the lights of the bar, discarded the mog's clothes in one of the bins, and drew his coat about himself, Damien grinned contently. He knew well what waited at home, and drawn by that thought, finished locking up the club to make his way home.

The trip wasn't far, he was thankful for. The snow was still falling, albeit much finer, and slower than earlier in the evening. The crisp air a sharp contrast to the lingering warmth trapped under his coat, particularly his twitchy, squirmy stomach as the mog slipped about, struggling meekly in the tight walls.

Fishing his keys from his pocket, the fox licked his lips with anticipation as he unlocked his door. The lights still on, he wagged his tail as he slipped in past the dark, heavy doorway, tapping snow from his shoes and brushing it from his shoulders, before slipping his coat on a rack with a grateful puff of breath in the familiar, warmer feeling and gently scented air of his home proper.

Stepping through the modest hallway, the fox grinned as he glanced about the corner into the kitchen. In a pair of pants and little else, the cream-and-snowy furred Moonblossom was distracted, brewing up tea. His endearingly ruffled ears swaying about his back as he glanced out the window at the calming snow, perhaps hoping for a sunrise.

With a soft gasp, Sefra arched as Damien's arms slipped about him from behind, and a very noteable bulge or three pressed against his back.

He leaned back into the fox's embrace, rubbing cheeks and grinning as he felt those squirms against him, shivering and moaning gently as he found enough freedom in those arms to turn and kiss his boyfriend keenly in greeting.

'Bweeeh..!' The bun grinned as he rubbed noses, breaking it off gently, resting his hands over that gravid middle and eying it with a nostalgic mix of emotions. 'You didn't want to bring them home to share?'

'Isn't that what you'd call this?' The fox smirked as he slowly guided the bun about, to pin him against a cupboard, letting the bulges squirm. Already so much of the cute mog's fight had been ground and churned out of him. 'Besides, if I had, I wouldn't have even gotten a taste.' Sefra's eyes widened a little and his hands groped over the sluggish squirms jealously.

'He's a..?'

'Moogle.' The fox grinned and couldn't help the thick sudden belch and coinciding waft of pink fluff that escaped his muzzle. '..Or was, at least.'

The moonblossom gave a piteous whine and groped about the fox's belly, and back to his rump, grinning as he ground his own front and immodest bulge back in turn.

'Bweeeeeh..! You know what that does to me, foxie.' The bun murmured with a tight-lipped pout, the barest shadows of a heavily muted grin peeking through.

'I do, and if he hadn't been so blushingly adorable, I might have let you watch. ..Or join in.' Damien gave a playful growl, grinding his middle to his partner and groping the bun back in kind. 'Still.. plenty of him left for you to enjoy.' he offered, raising an eyebrow coaxingly as he stepped back, slowly drawing his hair from its braid to let it fallout over his back.

Pressing to the fox's back as Damien turned to the bedroom, the bun moaned softly, groping the bulges that pressed out against his palms, biting his lip for the succulent thought of holding that delectable weight within himself.

Clambering onto their bed, the sheets plush and supple, slightly tangled and messy, unmade from the night before, the fox grinned as the bun eagerly let his pyjama pants pool about his ankles, and hopped up to get himself laid out, eyes alight as though christmas had come early.

Slowly sauntering his way up, crawling over the bun, the vulpine growled lowly as his tail swished, brushing along his boyfriend's legs, before his hips eased back, and with a careful hand, guided his shapely hips back to let the eager, and teasing-slicked tip of the moonblossom's length brush between his cheeks and spread him steadily.

With a slow exhale, the fox bent to rest his forehead to Sefra's as the bun crooned a delighted tone, when the kneeling fox settled wholly atop his shaft, hilting with ease.

That broad belly, gurgling thickly, rested weightily on his own tummy, and all but begged his hands to lift, and press along the thick, ebon fur wrapped about the mog within.

He stared with burning cheeks as the soft mass within stirred to his touches. There, a hand? It pressed out, trying to get him to notice it. Oh, he did. The mog was right where he belonged.. The moonblossom's hands slowly spread and roamed that belly, brushing and kneading along the curves of the fox's gut whilst Damien gave a low groan, panting gently for the exquisite motions kneading the aches of such a meal over. Sefra knew his stomach well. Where to grope, where to press, where to itch and knead as the thick meal gave a faint, burbling groan of recognition in the betrayal.

Leaning his hands on the headboard, the fox leaned forward to slowly sandwich his meal between the bun and himself, compressing the mog with a low percolated belch.

The both of them felt a faint pop or two, catching one another's eyes and grinning as they continued.

Sefra all but hugged on that stomach, his legs bending up to brace the fox as his hips insistantly rocked and ground into that taut, exquisite grip as the fox panted slow, wetting his lips amidst his steady rocking grinds. His own length squeezed and kneaded between Tsumi's steadily softening mass and Sefra's taut abdominals.

Bucking steadily as the fox rode him, Sefra grinned, leaning up to nuzzle on the belly, groaning his delight as the bulges and twitches diminished. The softening gut, spurred on by the eager motions churning, sloshing and potently gurgling as the moonblossom kissed on the fox's gut, panting and grooming along it, gripping with his blunt claws, letting them sink a little into the cushy middle, hips all the while picking up in pace, bouncing the taller vulpine on his keenly pulsing length, his orbs already drawing up, so keenly teased by the handsome fox.

Damien grinned down at the sight of the bun hugging against his pillowy gut. The burning cheeks so reminiscent of his meal that he viced down on that shaft, and his well digested meal, panting as the sudden wringing brought the shakey bun over with a quakey groan, and his spasming thrusts began to gush a thick and virile warmth under tail. With each, the fox rested a hand to his boyfriend's head to hold it snug against his belly, the bun quivering as he listened intimately to the soupy blorps and liquidy gurgles of the broad middle.

And finally, the bun collapsed, gasping as he peeked up at Damien with bliss-hazed eyes more than half lidded. Still brilliantly pink, the bun leaned, to kiss that belly once more, chrrling gently, before the fox grinned and eased off that shaft gently, to softly roll the bun over, and slowly pressed his gut against his back, rumbling gently in an ear.

'Mmnhh..' slurred the bun as he tugged a pillow to himself, nibbling at it gently. 'Next time you get a moogle, they're mine. Promise..?'

Damien smirked as he slowly pressed forward, sinking into the bun's cushy rump, groaning and mooshing his middle over the moonblossom's back.

'I'll try my best.' the fox smirked as he nibbled a large ear, growling fondly. There was so much moogle to work off, yet.

---

The sun was well and truly risen by the time Damien awoke.

Sefra lay beneath the blankets, his arm draped over the fox's hip as he nosed in against the fox's softer middle.

With a soft smirk, the fox gently eased himself free from the buck and bed, hearing the muffled, sleepy murmur of disapproval as the bun's heatsource escaped.

Stretching gently, the fox glanced over towards the tall mirror on one wall and turned to admire the soft addition the pink boy had made to his frame.

With a soft pet of his lush fur, he neatened over those bulges, grinning. He'd worked off more, in the past.

Toes curling in the plush carpet, the fox padded about to their ensuite, wincing gently for the soft chill of the tiles on his pads, before before he eased onto the toilet.

With a soft groan, the vulpine felt the mog's second pleasing stretch through his body, though he was rather more compliant this time around.

The steady spread of his tailstar and slow release of the well drained and compacted remnants of the mog slowly began coiling their way free. Softly hanging his head, the fox panted as felt the nudge of bone, and telltale texture of well bleached fur.

His body was well accustomed to dealing with so much nutrition, as he bore down, smirking for the fond memories of the bashful gaze he'd delighted in all the night prior.

Well, he considered, as he found a slight discomfort in a wall of resistance. He'd have to doublecheck the mog's phone when he got back to work. Assuredly he knew other mogs.

And groaning gently as he eclipsed the mog's skull, burying it in the thickened aftermath beyond, the fox smirked, stirring as he considered doting on Sefra's gut next time.

Cleaning himself up and rising, the fox glanced over his thick-piled handiwork, and smirked. Doubtless the mog's friends would be asking where he was..

They'd probably love spending a night at his bar, too.

Damien's tail swished as he flushed, and padded out towards the sleepy smile of his bun.

--Fin.