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Lukas's heart thumped in his chest, the otter squirming where he knelt before the armchair. Somewhere off behind him bumbled the TV turned down to near silence, neither of the two here wanting to miss out on any of the much more important action that was about to take place in the room instead of on the screen. He swallowed, looked up towards the golden retriever sitting forward in the chair - Keave blushed and halfway hid his muzzle behind a paw, fingers splayed over his mouth - and then reached forward, fingers working at the dog's pants fly with practiced ease.

Already he could pick out the distinct differences here, in the way the front of his pants held against his body, how he had to tug the zipper out first and then down, and then of course the sheer humid heat emanating up from the new opening. Keave lifted himself up a little bit, other arm bracing against the chair, to allow the otter to tug his pants down - and Lukas saw with delight that the canine had forgone wearing underwear today.

With as much as he packed, there really wasn't much of a choice though. Keave visibly sagged with relief, and in more ways than one: as Lukas drew the dog's pants down his thighs his eyes remained fixed in one spot, the sleek, golden fur smoothly giving over to velvety black leather skin of an equine sheath and sack, palm-sized balls slowly shifting downwards in the shift in temperature and tightness. Keave squirmed again where he sat, briefly bringing his legs in, bunching those balls together against the underside of his just as plump sheath, and then spreading them apart again, allowing the hefty masses to slough down and hang off the edge of the seat.

"I guess..." the well-equipped dog murmured behind his paw. Lukas's eyes flicked down again: amid the overlapping folds and wrinkles of plush, greasy skin he caught a brief flash of warm pink, the other male's arousal stirring within his sheath at the attention. "I guess I do owe you something..."

At that Lukas smirked and meant to say something, but just as quickly forgot about that when he refocused his attention upon the dog's slowly shifting horse balls. The otter brought both of his paws up, cupped together, and lifted up underneath one of them, feeling its heft, its weight, its immense warmth; he adjusted where he knelt before the seat and leaned in, first just tasting the air with a slow inhalation, and then pursing his lips and nuzzling in against the surface itself. Above him Keave immediately let out a little sigh and spread his legs further, the movement causing the rest of him to squish up against the otter's short muzzle. Humid heat washed over him, rich and delicious and intoxicating, and Lukas lifted his paws beneath Keave's sack to press those weights in against his mouth and chin.

For a moment he remained wrapped there between sack and sheath, soft leather skin pressed against his lips and pulling up against his nose while the thick, plush plumpness stirred gently against his muzzle. Each time he nuzzled in one direction or tilted his head in the other he felt his nose catch along those wide overlapping wrinkles, supple and soft and smeared with the natural slickness of daily musk and arousal. Already he knew from experience that he could barely balance one of Keave's balls in each palm, and kneeling here before him he did exactly that, rolling his fingers slowly around the wide, rounded shapes, feeling their warmth and presence there within soft hanging skin.

He knew that he could hold them, and also knew that he couldn't fit them into his mouth, but just like every other time that still failed to prevent him from trying. Once more the otter looked up to the retriever past the impressive size and weight of his equipment, shimmering black skin continuing to stir, sheath growing as the blunted barrel shape of his unflared head began to press itself free - and then he licked his chops, swallowed again, and parted his lips, leaning forward until that same soft, supple skin squished up against him.

His tongue followed soon after, flicking forward, swirling around, diving back and forth around the heft of one of Keave's balls. Above him the dog gasped and shivered with the sensation, legs briefly squeezing in along Lukas's shoulders. The otter let his eyes flutter shut and then started to suck there, first drawing in folds upon wrinkles of overlapping loose skin, drawing the dog's equine sheath gradually more snug around its contents - until he held enough between his lips to dance his tongue back and forth over it, sucking back and forth, smearing him in his saliva. He swallowed again, then had to do so another time against the slight clinging stickiness of gathered sweat and gentle musk, and now cupped his paws behind one of those balls to draw it forward.

Now there was a distinct weight lying across his snout and muzzle. The otter halfway opened his eyes and saw there the familiar shape of Keave's shaft still growing, rich pink flesh a sweet contrast against the leathery brownish-black of the rest of him; he twitched and pulsed as he grew, slight bump of his medial ring just now unfolding from within the rest of his sheath, all of those wrinkles straightening and smoothing out under the attention. Lukas swallowed again, slurped his tongue forward, and sucked again, feeling the heat, the weight, the presence of the retriever's horse balls against his mouth, and just barely managed to slurp the one of them forward to where he could gently purse his lips around it and hold it there.

Just a little bit more... he closed his eyes again, shifted forward, flared his nostrils in drawing in another breath, sucked a little bit more - and felt it slip into place there within his maw, the elastic, supple skin of the rest of his sack adjusting in turn.

Satisfied, he opened his eyes again, remained there in place, and just churned his tongue back and forth across it, then finally let it slip free - yet still kept some of that loose skin between his lips for a moment, before dropping that free too. A few thick strands of sticky saliva hung down from the sagging underside of Keave's sack, heavy balls hanging down off the edge of the armchair, bouncing with his breath, jiggling and twitching with his slight, eager trembling, and then hoisting up, holding there, and then sagging right back down with each throb of his half-hard cock.

Lukas reached up and now plied both paws _there_instead, one balanced at that ring while the other, fingers slick with drool, curled within the overlapping meat of his sheath. Keave twitched again and turned his head the other way, golden fur tinted pink with his blush. Pumping slowly, loving the way this warm, supple, slightly slick skin pulled and shifted underneath his fingerpads, Lukas turned and nuzzled along the side of the equine shaft there while fishing to make eye contact.

Finally Keave's met his. The otter winked.

"You wanna owe me this, too?"