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Twenty-one

The urge to pee did it for me. Third time in the past couple hours--and you know what they say about the third time.

I had stumbled towards the restroom, buzzed but not intoxicated, leaving my table of friends behind who were picking at orange slices that garnished our fresh pitchers of Blue Moon. Dubstep wobbled in the background, something dirty, bass-heavy. Not my kind of music, but that's what they played on Fridays and my friends insisted on taking me here. People were flocked around the DJ, lost in their drunken dances and all the lights that flashed so many colors. What if we were all photosensitive epileptics? A grin had crept across my face as I pushed the restroom door open. I was imagining the whole bar of people torn between spasms on the floor, unable to control themselves (although certainly it wouldn't be funny to actually have epilepsy, especially on one's 21st birthday with a crew of good friends). I'd made it to the legal age and it was convenient to drink without worry. About the law or nosy parents. But it was a day like any other, although I wished the music came from bona fide instruments. And I still had to piss, probably like the horse with too many piercings that'd eased past me as I entered.

And here I was in a dingy old restroom with two urinals and a stall that wouldn't lock, something I discovered the second time I had to go. Only one dangerously thin roll of toilet paper sat atop the tank, I remembered, and I wondered what guys did when they were out of paper amidst a messy number two.

A beefy wolf I would've confused for a bouncer had I not known the bar didn't employ one had just unzipped, occupying the farthermost urinal, and I quickly debated whether or not to take the stall instead like a bladder-shy pussy. But the guy was huge, the urinals were too close, and I didn't want to risk bumping elbows. Alcohol had a tendency to bring out everyone's inner homophobe--and killer in extreme cases. And me being a lithe coyote--with a tail so bushy girls wanted to wear it around their necks because they thought it was cute--didn't give me the confidence to win in a fight. But I was buzzed and decided for the urinal, unzipping myself next to the big guy whose fur was a clean gray, contrasting my own tawny sort of gray--or nongray. We bumped elbows.

He grunted. But it was that sort of grunt guys make when relieving themselves. He didn't say anything when our elbows touched again, so I relieved myself without pissing my pants. Obvious to say that I didn't peek--at least, not directly, or at first. But the wolf wasn't standing right up close to the urinal as many guys did, and as he finished, I couldn't help but notice him shaking it to get the last drops off. That's when my head turned on its own, slight as a minute hand advancing to its next interval, enough to get a good view. I blurted, "Holy shit, you're huge!"

Must've been a little more buzzed than I thought.

Automatically I flinched, expecting to get some sense and my teeth knocked into me, quietly cursing myself for saying something like that. But all the wolf said was "Yeah, I get that a lot."

Opening my eyes, I saw the wolf glancing me over curiously, taking a peek at the dick I held in my paw. "Not so bad yourself, my man."

"Thanks," I said reflexively. It came out a whisper.

Now, I wasn't small by any means. Hard, I was more than eight and a quarter inches (8.26, to be exact--don't judge: you've measured yours, too), and, seeing as he didn't mind showing off, I got a good look at his wolfhood: the shaft was long and thick, the head big. Flaccid, he was the same length as I was erect!

As I finished pissing, he asked, "You know how guys are--like they say--either a 'grower' or a 'shower?'"

I nodded, shaking my dick dry. Questioning my sexuality.

"Well, I'm both."

"Oh?" I said, not really sure what to say, feeling a tinge of excitement in my crotch.

He nodded. How can a guy be both? "Wanna see?"

Well, what the hell do you say to that? Of course I was curious to see how big he got, so I just nodded back dumbly. Grinning, he began stroking off with a paw, forcing the blood into his glans, which soon became engorged, turning a deeper red. True to his claim, his dick lengthened, expanding towards the urinal. He took a baby-step back to make room. My hazy estimate guessed he grew an extra four inches or so, his dick fully hard and angling upwards mightily even after he let go.

"That's fucking impressive, dude," I said. "How big are you?"

"More than a foot," he said casually, as if he were telling me his favorite color. "Wanna feel?"

I couldn't muster a response. The wolf laughed, his tail swishing back and forth. He was enjoying himself. "Unfortunately, this is one of those 'touch with your eyes only' exhibits."

I offered a sheepish chuckle in response, wondering if I really would've touched it had he allowed.

"And you?" he said.

"Yeah?"

The wolf gestured towards my crotch and I realized my dick betrayed my arousal, hard as it has ever been. "How big is it now?"

I told him and he smiled, saying he was impressed.

The restroom door opened and I turned towards the urinal, pretending I was pissing, doing my best to hide my arousal. The wolf didn't seem to care, his boner in plain sight. But the restroom's new occupant didn't seem to notice the details of what was happening, only that both urinals were in use and the stall was his only option. He stepped into the stall and soon there came the sound of urination.

The wolf smiled and began stroking himself off again, but quietly. I couldn't keep myself from watching. He had big paws, but even they seemed disproportionately small as he held his cock. He gestured his head towards me, as if saying Go ahead. I began to paw myself off as well, and, surprisingly, I was harder than a beer bottle even though I had a few drinks, remembering one of my friends, a burly lion, professing how he couldn't get it up when he hooked up with some hot feline after a night of partying, taking shot after shot after shot.

The toilet flushed and the guy stumbled out, went to the sink. Not to wash his hands, but to check the mirror to make sure the fur on his head looked just right. Saw him peeking at us from the corner of his eyes and, becoming suspicious, decided to make his exit.

I breathed out.

"No need to worry," the wolf said, his ears perked up. "I'm probably the biggest guy here. Aside from you-know-what, that is." He had a friendly look on his face, a strong muzzle with flecks of white fur, and eyes a soft yellow; if he didn't have his dick in paw, he would've looked like someone with whom you could down a few drinks and hold a good conversation at the bar. Maybe he was?

"I'm not worried," I said. "Just haven't done anything like this before. Hell, I just barely turned legal to drink today!"

"Well, happy birthday," he said. "Perhaps I'll make an exception and let you touch me, if you want. Not everyday you turn twenty-one."

I hesitated as I didn't know if he was serious. "Uh..."

"Here," he said and he took my paw and placed it on his cock, grabbing my own next. Then, without any more words, we pawed each other off. Feeling his impressive girth and length made my stomach churn in excitement, my own cock reeling with pleasure as he stroked it. We both moaned under our breaths. With his other paw, he jerked down his pants, letting his balls loose, his tail swooshing back and forth freely. The firm globes of his ass taunted me and I wondered what it would be like to take him doggy style. To let him take me that way.

The restroom door opened and another somebody entered. I closed my eyes tight, kept jerking the wolf off (much to my surprise) as he did the same to me. Footsteps stopped shortly and I could imagine what the guy must've been thinking. I could hear whoever he was double back and the restroom door fell shut again. I was embarrassed, to say the least. Opening my eyes to the wolf's toothy grin provided a hedge of comfort, however, and I just grinned back, my cock beginning to fire its intense pleasure signals to my brain. My knees buckled and my ears flattened. Bracing myself now with the wolf's muscular arm instead of stroking him off, my dick throbbed and a thick stream of cum splattered onto the urinal. The wolf jacked me off faster, more white cum streaming in long, pleasurable spurts as my head swam in a mix of ecstasy, drunkenness--and uncertainty. Orgasm subsiding, I finally breathed.

"Damn, man," the wolf said. "You normally cum that hard?"

"No," I exhaled, my dick still rigid, the wolf stroking it gently, cum dripping off the tip.

"'Cause I do, if you wanna see."

Hesitating for only a few seconds, I resumed touching the huge piece of wolfmeat that still jutted out, hoping that no one else would enter the restroom, watching how his impressive set of balls swung as I slipped by paw back and forth over all twelve inches. The wolf began rubbing himself with his free paw, touching his chest, his stomach, moaning lowly, coaxing me to keep going. Moment after moment I wondered if someone would step in again and catch us, but it never happened. Soon enough the wolf's body grew tense and he began to buck into my paw.

The wolf growled in pleasure and cursed loudly as the first volley of cum drenched his own urinal, a stream so thick and long I wondered if he'd ejaculated everything his balls had all at once. But the wolf came again and again, jet after jet, a near-impossible amount each time firing from the fat head of his cock. A dozen or so seconds later the last of it spurted weakly onto my paw.

"Damn, man. You do this for everyone that pisses next to you?" I said, still amazed at the mess.

He chuckled, a deep, pleasant sort of laugh as if he were thinking of something funny to himself. "No, not exactly."

We left the restroom after flushing down the evidence, cleaning up at the sink. We left and we waved each other goodbye as he made his way to the bar. Sitting down with my three friends again, both pitchers of Blue Moon had been drained.

"Nothing for me, guys?" I said, tossing a spiral of orange peel into an empty pitcher, acting casual.

"Took you long enough," the stocky lion of our group said, itching at his mane as if in annoyance.

"How'd you like your present?" the token fox said, a short, skinny guy with an excessive grin and fur so orange he looked like fire.

"My present?"

"Yeah, I checked up on you," my third friend said, another coyote who could've passed off as my brother. Our biggest difference was the extra yellow that marked my face as he was a bit more gray, and his tail wasn't nearly as bushy. He killed the rest of his beer. "Seemed to be enjoying yourself. Told a few guys needing a piss to wait a few more minutes."

That was him? The last guy that'd entered the restroom before promptly leaving? Out of the three, he was my closest friend and I couldn't believe he caught me jacking off another guy!

My face grew hot, realizing what they had done--and that I actually liked it. "What the hell guys? Why not some hot chick instead?"

"Well, that's what was originally planned," the lion said, looking annoyed still. "But we thought a joke would be funnier."

"Joke?" I said. I wasn't sure what was happening.

"Not a joke no more," the lion returned. "Apparently you liked it, so call it a 'gift.'"

"We'll just pass this off as you being drunk," my lookalike friend added. "The wolf is a good guy I knew at work who owed me a favor. A big enough favor to request this. Didn't think you two would take it that far!"

"You told them what happened?"

The fox laughed. "It's okay, man! I think our lion friend here is the only one taking it hard. He's just jealous you can get it up when he can't after two beers." The lion socked the fox in the shoulder, explaining that it was more than just a couple beers that rendered his dick useless that night. The fox only laughed, but took notice of somebody and said, "Look, the wolf's coming now!"

The big, gray lupine was sauntering over with a couple pitchers in tow, weaving between people who made sure to move out of his way. Pulling a seat over next to me with a leg, he sat down, placing the pitchers on the table. An offering.

"It was supposed to be a joke, man. Just a joke," coyote-brother said to the wolf. "I saw what you guys did. I didn't say wank him off for every guy to see that strolled in. Had to guard the door and tell half the bar there was shit everywhere!"

"Well, your friend's pretty big where it counts," the wolf said, unapologetically. He filled my cup and winked at me. "Plus, his tail is cute. Couldn't help myself."

"I knew your friend was gay," the lion remarked to the grayer coyote. "Why else would he agree so easily?" Then, to me: "Enjoy your present, pal." He walked off to the bar. Time for some shots, I guessed.

"Don't worry about him," said the fox, still rubbing his arm where he'd been struck. "He's just drunk. He'll take it in stride in the morning."

Of course, I only sat there, dumbfounded as to how quickly everything was happening. So I was gay now? Maybe I was bi and just didn't know it. Apparently alcohol brought out everyone's inner homosexual as well. I took a swig of the beer.

What the hell, right? I came in, got a hand job, gave my first, and we both liked it. I took another swig, the others on the table doing the same now, the music still blaring all around us. I got a good look at the wolf, who was beginning to look more and more attractive to me, the more I was letting myself admit to it. Maybe it was still the beer. I'd have to think long and hard in the morning when I was sober.

"Now, only one question remains afterward," the wolf said after he gulped down the rest of his beer, patting me on the back as I poured both of us another cup. I looked up with a smile, my head swimming into the deeper ends I'd yet to explore. "Your place or mine?"

Perhaps tomorrow morning in bed with a handsome wolf wouldn't be the best time to debate my sexuality. I raised my cup with a smile, my fox friend raising his cup to mine with a cheer, my coyote friend shaking his head, his head in his paws. I looked to the bar and saw our lion friend pounding shots. The wolf raised his cup, lust burning in his yellow eyes. At least he was the kind of gift that kept on giving.

"Happy birthday to me."