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Chapter 2

"An endurance contest," Milo muttered pensively. "It's gotta be."

"You think so, sir?" Ristin asked as he poured his young boss a glass of wine. The two were sitting together in the back room of the shop late into the night, old Markus having left some time ago.

The goat picked up the glass and slowly drank half of it in one go, before putting it back down and lighting himself another cigarette.

"The way I see it, there ain't no other option that would make sense. I mean, what else could it be - a size contest? There's no way. I ain't ever measured the old man's member, of course, nor seen it in the flesh that much in general, really, 'cept that time in the sauna. But from what I remember, while no shrimp-dick, he ain't gonna compete with this." He accentuated his words by spreading his bare thighs wide, giving the raccoon a rather beautiful view.

"Very true, sir," Ristin giggled, reaching a finger out tentatively to give the impressive length of that girthy snake a loving stroke, feeling it twitch faintly in response.

"But something does bug me a bit," the goat frowned at length after taking another drag of his cigarette, exhaling through his caprine nostrils. "Why? I mean, how can that old codger hope to compete with a potent stud like my smokin' hot young self? In a test of "male sexual prowess!" I'm nineteen, and he's what, ninety?"

"Seventy-six," Ristin supplied helpfully.

"Whatevs. He's an aged fossil, is my point."

"Well, you never know, sir. Maybe the old man still has more... uh, spunk... than you might credit him for!"

"Oh, come off it! He could have twice as much as I expect and still be like the Gobi Desert down there."

"Hmm." The raccoon tapped his nose thoughtfully. "Well, maybe he doesn't mind the idea of getting the snip so much. I mean, I certainly don't mind it myself, now that I've got used to it and all." He placed a finger on his nub and swirled it around, making that little bobbed stub twitch almost imperceptibly.

"True. But then again, you're a natural bottom, ain't you, my little masked one?" Milo smirked as he reached over and slapped Ristin's thigh. The coon yowped, blushed and giggled a little.

"Mind you," the goat-manager muttered as he rose from his chair and paced across the room, flaccid member swaying majestically through the air as he did so, "You could be onto something there, I guess. Nothin' else makes much sense to my mind. Maybe the old crabapple has got sick of seeing his once virile billy-goat-hood gettin' gradually turned into a raisin by Old Father Time, and he's finally decided he wants to preserve it in his own Collection for posterity and that. O' course, he'd never admit to that openly, might damage his reputation as an august and dignified personage among all his pompous old crypt-keeper friends. But if he lost it in a contest with yours truly..." Milo's smirk only grew wider. "Well, I'm only too happy to oblige, Gramps. So, Ristin, what do ya say we do a little practice?"

"Of course! Here to help, sir," the raccoon beamed excitedly.

"Alright." Sitting down again, Milo spread his thighs again, once more treating his employee to a full viewing of his bounty. "I want you to use your paws first, we'll move on to the mouth stuff later. Do everything you can to get me off, and if I spill so much as a drop of pre, you have my permission to pinch it."

Ristin looked a little shock. "Pinch your beautiful... but, sir... are you sure you won't slap me if I do that?"

The goatboy put a hand on his chest with an air of injured innocence. "Slap you? When have I ever... actually I might do, to be fair, good point. Still, we both hafta make sacrifices."

Ristin had soon got down to the serious business of pawing off his boss. His soft, nimble paws were skilful, moving up and down Milo's majestic shaft as the goat-log in question quickly stirred to life once more, its already formidable girth only growing as it began to chub up under the loving caresses of the tender coon. Taking hold of that fat, meaty mushroom glans in his right paw, Ristin continued to rub and stroke the pierced underside of the shaft's great length with his left as he began gently to jack Milo's supple young foreskin back and forth over the slightly moist cockhead it enveloped. The goat himself was starting to perspire a little, panting faintly, already feeling a considerable pulsing and twitching in his potent stud-muscle as his natural teenage horniness took over without much need for prompting.

The raccoon stroked off his young boss with great passion and affection, seemingly greatly enjoying the feeling of that smooth, pulsing organ beneath his fingers as he massaged and fondled it. Only a matter of minutes had passed before, as the coon placed a delicate finger on Milo's great wide slit and ran it around the sensitive tip, the perspiring goat could finally stand it no more. Milo gasped, then cursed, as thick white seed oozed forth over the raccoon's paw. Remembering his instruction, Ristin gave the underside of the goatboy's shaft a good hard pinch, near the base, just above his pulsing, heaving great nuts. Yowping, Milo swung the flat of his hand at Ristin's cheek, the nimble coon deftly ducking it just in time.

"Good swing, sir, you nearly got me there! But I suppose we need to do a little more practice."

Blushing and scowling, Milo attempted to remain as aloof as possible given the circumstances. "Yep, yep," he said irritably with a wave of his hand as he stared down at the gooey reproductive mess still dribbling out of his dong. "Alright, frick it. Let's make with the mouth stuff already, after you've cleaned up this mess of course And this time, if I spill my jizz, you have my permission to nip it."

Ristin looked even more perturbed at this. "But sir, you'll..."

"You can always duck, can't ya? Anyway, look lively now, someone's gotta clean this floor, and it ain't gonna be my splendid self!"

After cleaning the adolescent manager's jizz off the floor, Ristin soon got to work cleaning something else. Puckering his lips gently over the fat, slightly moist head of the young caprine's meaty mushroom head, he probed the warm piss-slit a little with his tongue, tasting the salty remnants of Milo's potent ball-juice. Though only a quarter of an hour had passed since the goat had blown his load, Milo was already beginning to feel horny once more as he felt that gentle moist tickle of Ristin's lips and tongue on his sensitive cock-tip. Gently, slowly going down on that glorious goathood, the coon's mouth opened wider and wider to accommodate the strapping girth of the youth's massive shaft, filling his mouth with meat as he began to swirl his tongue over glans and shaft alike, manipulating that mobile foreskin.

"Mrrf..." the goat murmured, feeling more than a little hot under the collar as the sensation of the coon's tickly tongue on that most sensitive part of his special love-sausage pierced through all his other senses, making his balls feel fit to burst once more. Sweating profusely, Milo closed his eyes and tilted back his head, trying desperately to fight the urge to blow his load right into Ristin's attentive mouth.

The raccoon's tongue began to tease even harder, licking lovingly under and over the abundant length and girth of the goatboy's schlong, gliding over the top with its pulsing dorsal vein and exploring the underside, ridged with the Jacob's Ladder. Ristin cupped Milo's warm, hefty scrotum in his paw as he did so, apparently getting lost in the pleasure of sucking off his boss' giant teen peen.

Such was the passionate attention of the raccoon's lips and tongue that before long it was all the goat could do to contain himself. To his own mild surprise he was indeed able to surpass his previous attempt, but only by a few minutes. When Ristin's tongue found his sensitive slit once more, Milo finally erupted like a volcano, cursing as he felt the unstoppable torrent of cum course through his twitching member straight into the waiting mouth of the appreciative coon. It was almost apologetically, and after some delay, that Ristin finally gave that thick shaft a playful little nip with his teeth. Jumping in alarm, Milo reflexively responded with a wild attempt at a backhand which the raccoon, his jaws releasing the softening goathood at last, dodged even more serenely than the last. Rattled and flustered, Milo began stiffly adjusting his hat to hide his embarrassment.

"No shame in that, sir, you certainly seem to be improving, and that's the main thing," the irritatingly cheerful coon beamed ingenuously. "Maybe... you could try doing it in my... eheh... tailhole again?"

Pouting a little, Milo sullenly avoided Ristin's eyes. "Alright," he said at length. "Just lemme have a ciggy break first."

The goat was feeling rather more relaxed after getting a goodly dose of nicotine into his system. Ristin, who had in the meantime been yet again cleaning up any stray splashes of bodily fluids, proffered his rump up toward his young manager with an unmistakable air of excitement, ringed tail twirling a little in anticipation. Coolly stubbing the remnants of his cigarette out on the tabletop, Milo couldn't help but feel a familiar stirring in the great young malehood that still swung proudly between his thighs as he stared at his raccoon employee's plump, round rear, bubble buttocks wiggling cheekily at him.

The young caprine horned up quickly. He rubbed his own great, thick, bulging erection between his palms a little before he began to probe the raccoon's cornhole with its huge, pink, meaty mushroom head. The stump where Ristin's own cock had once been twitched excitedly, slick with pre, as he felt Milo's prodigious malehood begin to force his cheeks apart, the goat's strapping girth invading his anal cavity most insistently. The coon let out a little moan at the almost unbearable pressure in his asshole as Milo carelessly forced his way in.

Still no doubt feeling a little tender from earlier that day, the coon's cornhole was soon getting a punishing pounding once again as Milo began pumping away, soon settling into a nice rhythm, hips thrusting back and forth as his pendulous goat-balls slapped against both his own strapping bare thighs and Ristin's pert round cheeks. He smirked a little as he heard the coon begin to moan a little as his own Jacob's ladder once again chafed the inside of that cornhole, knowing full well that Ristin liked it rough!

Milo felt that he was getting into the swing of things now, getting back into his groove. His hefty, potent young nads were stirring again, his rock-hard erection testing the raccoon's anal passage to its limit, but standing astride his happily obliging masked plaything he now felt in control once more, any fears about the future of his beautiful malehood receding from his mind.