A Certain Degree of Intimacy
"A Certain Degree of Intimacy"
by K.M. Hirosaki ([email protected])
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story, and all characters and situations within are copyright (c) 2004 K.M. Hirosaki.
I would like to dedicate this story to those readers of mine who take the time to tell me what they like to see, and who take it upon themselves to forego shame in favor of having intelligent discussion about erotic writing.
Feedback is appreciated.
[email protected] http://www.livejournal.com/users/kmhirosaki
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Halsey's canid heritage gifted him with a number of inborn talents. One of those things was an acute sense of hearing. While the wolfish side of him mostly kept him from betraying his alertness, his more foxish qualities caused his left ear to twitch when it caught the sound of fabric shuffling on fabric.
It was a subtle sound, to be sure, and by itself, it didn't mean much. However, when taken in context with the last twenty or so minutes, this marked the third such instance of nearly the exact same sound. What it meant was that a certain athletic fox was inching his way closer to him.
Linford had asked Halsey if he wanted to come by, watch the game, and maybe have a few drinks. Halsey was more than happy to accept the invitation. He didn't often get to experience Linford's hospitality; the fox was a bit reluctant to host, most of the time, but when he did, he was very generous about providing things like booze and snacks that a lot of stingier friends might have skimped on. That wasn't to say that Halsey was the type to mooch off of his pals -- far from it. But Linford always exuded such a cheerful exuberance when he was in either the mood or the position to have guests over at his place.
Tonight, though, with his shuffling ever closer to where Halsey was sitting on the sofa, the fox's exuberance seemed elsewhere directed. It was actually cute, the way that he was attempting to be so discreet about it. Halsey kept his eyes right on the television screen, though, showing no hint (other than the ear twitch) that he'd realized what was going on. The folf knew how to take a hint, but he decided that he could drag out the teasing by another minute or so before he gave in.
His opportunity came after a particularly impressive play, which allowed him a legitimate shift in his attention. He stretched himself out to grab a handful of snack mix from the bowl on the coffee table. As he sat back upright on the couch, his left paw just so happened to find itself in a place where it could be comfortably rest upon Linford's right thigh.
Linford kept up his act of subtlety, even though he had to have known that Halsey had caught on to what he was doing. Just because it was fun to make his friend put effort into things, Halsey started to stroke his claws along the denim covering the fox's leg. The muscles in his thigh jerked, and the folf couldn't help but giggle at the reaction.
Neither of them had turned to face the other, yet, but the jig was up, regardless. Linford was doing a poor job of stifling his murring, and the sound only got louder as Halsey's rubbing crept further and further along the inside of the fox's thigh. With a remarkable lack of finesse, Linford just spread his legs apart, bumping his knee against Halsey's.
Halsey turned his head, finally, to look over at the fox, and they exchanged a brief, soft smile of affection with one another. Scooting a few inches closer, the folf brought his paw to the crotch of his friend's pants and patted it a couple of times before beginning to rub over it. Linford was as quick as always to react to such touching, which Halsey found unsurprising, considering the vulpine's sex drive. Making sure that his arm was in a comfortable position, the folf turned his attention -- or at least the visual portion of it -- back to the TV.
It made Halsey content to know that there didn't need to be any preamble or drama between Linford and himself when it came to matters such as these. They might play their little games of artfulness and toying along the way, but there was never anything sinister or -- more importantly -- shameful about approaching one another with the desire to get physical, even in the middle of other things. Probably, it was because neither of them saw anything inappropriate in it. At least, Halsey certainly didn't.
Within the span of a few plays (that didn't gain either team much ground, unfortunately), Linford was already filling out the too-tight front of his jeans. Halsey's fingers rubbed over the nice, firm ridge and squeezed at it probingly. He considered letting the fox squirm and suffer some more, but the poor guy was already achingly hard as it was, and that denim couldn't have been very comfortable. Besides, the atmosphere was turning Halsey on a fair deal, too, and at this point, teasing Linford was tantamount to teasing himself.
Two of Halsey's fingertips went to the zipper of Linford's jeans. The folf didn't bother with the button or the belt at all; he just pulled the fly down and wormed his little fingers on inside the jeans, fishing through the hole in the fox's boxers to get a hold on the easy-to-find hard-on within. With practiced precision, Halsey drew the length of Linford's cock out into the open air, and the fox sighed with relief and arousal.
Now that things were (quite literally) out in the open, there wasn't any need for Halsey to pretend that his mind was focused at all on the game anymore. He turned and smiled at Linford again, feeling his grin widen all on its own when he saw the look plastered on the fox's own face. Being turned on always had the most endearing of effects on an already-happy expression.
Halsey pinched his thumb and forefinger down near the base of the fox's hard shaft and tugged upwards twice. Already, things were more than a bit drizzly, and the folf liked it that way. Not wanting to waste any of that precious, slippery fluid on a token handjob -- especially since they both knew full well where things were going to end up -- Halsey braced his other hand on Linford's leg and bent himself down, seizing the fox's cock with his muzzle, making sure to get most of it in his mouth by the time his lips closed down so that he could savor as much of that drizzle's taste as he could.
If Halsey's moan hadn't been muffled due to his mouth being full, it would have had near the exact same tonal quality as Linford's. At least, that's what Halsey surmised. He wasn't trying to develop perfect pitch or anything, but it was bad form to not pay attention to a partner's reactions, even when you were just giving a spur-of-the-moment blowjob. And besides: just because it was impromptu and casual and friendly didn't make it without a special meaning all its own. Moreover, Halsey legitimately enjoyed going down on guys like this, and a moan that obviously wasn't faked (and the folf had come to learn to discern the giveaway peculiarities) was worth a thousand words.
This was one of those moans. An admittedly unusual sense of personal pride caused the folf's tail to start wagging and swishing as he schlepped his knees and lower legs up onto the couch. Now in a much more practical position, Halsey was able to better concentrate. He dipped his head down, poking his slim muzzle into the opening of his friend's pants, and pressed his nose right into the fur inside. Linford's scent resonated with something in his fellow canid's already-aroused instincts, and Halsey couldn't help but make some noise as his tongue batted the fox's member around inside his mouth.
Despite being intimately familiar with his friend's cock already, Halsey never would have dreamed of skipping the all-important process of exploring the every little contour of it. It was raw and tactile, and being as orally fixated as he was to begin with, Halsey made excellent use of his quirks on the matter, channeling his pent-up energy into eager and thorough slurps with his long tongue. Linford took the folf's left ear in one of his paws, and gave it a tug and a squeeze, gasping when his glans was pressed against the ridged roof of his friend's mouth.
"Ooh, keep that up, Halsey. It sounds like he likes it." Halsey's right ear snapped to attention at the sound of Derek's voice. The folf wasn't about to break his concentration by opening his eyes, but it sounded like the cougar was still firmly parked on the loveseat.
"Fuck you, Derek," Linford responded, the fox's voice warbling a little. His fingers rubbed some more at the base of Halsey's ear before he started to pat the folf on the head. "Don't pay any attention to him, Hal," he added, speaking in a coaxing voice to the folf. "He's just jealous, is all."
Halsey had to keep his lips pursed and his tongue still in order to keep himself from chuckling because of that. He could hear Derek himself laughing, if maybe a bit cynically. As if it were even at all necessary, Linford's petting paw held a firm pressure, making sure that Halsey's head stayed down where it was.
"At least it makes for a decent show," the cougar said. Halsey could practically hear the grin on his face when he'd said that. It also made the folf's tail pick up some speed. The damn thing had a mind of its own, sometimes. Hell, exhibition was nothing to be ashamed of when your friends were voyeurs.
"Better than the damn game," said Toby. "Will somebody please hurry up and score already!" the wallaby begged aloud.
Again, Halsey choked back the urge to laugh. Poor Toby, despite abhorring exercise in favor of a more sedentary lifestyle, was nevertheless quite drawn to the world of spectator sports. He was a 'fan' in the original sense of the word 'fanatic,' especially around this time of year, and having him over to watch games was a sure-fire way to make sure that the energy level was high.
Of course, Halsey didn't really need much of an energy boost, for the time being. His energies were focused enough as they were, and they rewarded him with appreciative scratches, strokes, and rubbings from Linford. Then again, having a warm cock held snugly in his snout was really its own reward, when it came down to it.
"You could always just forget about he game," Derek suggested, "and take a hint from little Halsey."
The cougar let out an 'oof,' which sounded like it came from a sharp marsupial elbow jabbing him in the ribs. "You know the rules, love," Toby said, sounding like his attention was firmly back on the television set. "Complete celibacy until my boys get their act together and win a game."
Linford started to laugh, then, though it quickly got truncated by a squeaky moan when Halsey jammed his tongue against the fox's leaking slit. The lovers were being amusing, yes, but the folf couldn't let himself get distracted from the task at hand. Much as poor Derek was in unfortunate straits, that didn't preclude Linford's decency-given right to get a high quality blowjob in the comfort of his own living room in front of guests.
"I know, I know," the big feline said. "Guess I'll just have to wait for Linf -- "
"That goes for you, too, honey," Toby interrupted, before his boyfriend could finish his next suggestion. "If I can't get off, you can't get off. That includes free folf oral sex."
That time, Halsey couldn't keep from laughing, and he actually had to pull off of Linford's shaft in order to do so and then catch his breath. Now that the folf could actually see everyone, he understood Linford's previous amusement. Derek wore a beautiful, uncharacteristic pout as he looked back at Toby, who in turn had his stone face on.
Turning his gaze away from the TV, the wallaby looked back at Derek and leaned in to give him a cute little kiss on the lips. "It'll be okay, honey," he said, turning to look back at Halsey and Linford together on the couch. "Besides, if we win tonight, I promise to drag you off and do all sorts of nasty things with you. Especially because I know that we'll both have been so worked up from getting to watch these two horny devils, here."
"Your moral support is always appreciated, Toby," Halsey said, smiling back genuinely as one of his hands stroked up and down Linford's member in place of his muzzle.
Meanwhile, since he had gotten up partway, the very distracted Halsey had failed to notice Linford's arm snaking down beneath him. When the fox grabbed his package, he let out a cry of surprise and pleasure, mixed heredity creating a striking and unique sound to that effect. "You know, it's really flattering to know how much sucking me off turns you on, Hal," Linford said, kneading his fingers together as he stroked the folf's cheek with his other hand.
For once, Halsey just held still, sighing with warranted relaxation as he calmly let his friend fondle him for a few more moments before he felt his shorts being opened up. His erection flung free once the zipper was down, bapping into Linford's fingers with an almost inaudible sound.
"All right, you," the fox murmured, toying with Halsey's sensitive tip for a brief moment. "Back to work with you, too." The folf laughed at the playful tease of a 'command,' and leaned himself back in to slide his muzzle back over his friend's unattended cock. At the same time, Linford laid himself down lengthwise in the opposite direction, with his back pressed into the soft cushions on the back of the sofa. He wrapped his arms around the backs of Halsey's thighs, and placed his lips right against the frenulum of the folf's penis, sucking softly on it as he pushed the swollen length up into a patch of soft belly fur.
For that initial second of physical pleasure, Halsey's peripheral senses shut down, but he thought he'd heard either Toby or Derek (more than likely Derek) whistle with approval. Even if neither of them had done that, though, Halsey knew that they both approved, anyway.
The folf used one hand to balance Linford's left leg, holding it up so that he could keep his lips wrapped around the fox's shaft while he fumbled with a rather frustrating belt buckle. For some reason, it was always the guys who were in good shape that were harder to undress on the fly. The clasp finally snapped free, though, after some clumsy manipulating, and after that, the dungarees' button was a cinch. Halsey then freed his muzzle for just a few more seconds as he tugged the denim and silk out of the way, affording him full-on accessibility to important little spots, such as the crook between crotch and thigh.
Linford still hadn't taken Halsey into his mouth, yet. He started by keeping the folf's dick pinned in place with his lips and nose, and drew his tongue up along the underside of it. Halsey's tail smacked the couch loudly a few times, and his hindclaws snagged at the armrest as he stilled his hips. If he let himself give in to the instinctual urge to thrust, he was likely to end up poking poor Linford in the eye or something. Besides, the fox was being a good boy and holding still for Halsey to do his thing when it came to orally pleasuring, and the least he could do was return the same favor.
Having their bodies tangled together like that was heartwarming and reassuring. Even given his own willingness to go down on a friend in need, Halsey acknowledged that it took a certain degree of intimacy to be able to simultaneously pleasure and be pleasured by someone in a roomful of people and have nothing be amiss about it.
Fur tickled Halsey's nose. The fox's cock was upside down from how it 'normally' was in his muzzle, and so the tip of his snout was poking into an already-tight vulpine scrotum. It was making Linford breathe harder and faster, which was perfectly fine with Halsey, because it served dually to show how good of a job he was doing, and also to tickle his own crotch as the fox's warm breath washed over it.
Suddenly, Linford's tongue curled out and drew one of the folf's testicles into his mouth. Halsey's cheeks pursed in harder with an overstimulation reflex, which in turn only made Linford suck harder, as well. The fox whimpered out from around the fuzzy bit of scrotum in his snout, which was followed less than a second later by a warm rush of semen all along the roof of Halsey's mouth.
The pressure from the suction around his testicle made Halsey tense up from head to toe. It wasn't a bad sensation, but it was overwhelmingly intense. His toes, his fingers, the base of his tail, his ears, and his lips all seized up for a wonderful, rushed instant, and then his mind swam frantically to catch up with itself as the fox continued to get off in his mouth.
Halsey started to slosh his tongue around inside his muzzle, letting the fox's spurting tip splatter and coat the inside of his mouth. Linford's distinct vulpine taste soaked into his taste buds -- and as was typical, he tasted very good, this evening. The folf guessed it was a combination of diet, metabolism, and lucky genetics. Reason wasn't as important as result, though, and Halsey didn't dwell on it while the fox came good and hard.
Once Linford's climax let up, so too did his tight lip-lock on Halsey's sack. His panting ruffled the furry lining of the folf's scrotum, and he started to lick and lap while he caught his breath. Halsey had just enough time to swallow down the remainder of the salty mouthful he'd been given before his lips popped off from around the fox's spent tip in order to giggle from the sexual ticklishness.
"This is one of those moments in life where I lament not owning a camcorder," Toby said with friendly wistfulness. Halsey started to giggle more when he heard that, which in turn made him wriggle more; Linford seemed to like that.
Derek let out a hearty belly laugh. "Whoa, honey, that sounds like it should have been my line!" he said, reaching out to grab the snack bowl, dragging it closer to his side of the table (after all, it wasn't as if Halsey and Linford were going to need it for the time being).
"Well, I can't help it!" Toby replied, turning up his snout as he turned up his voice. "I just happen to think that this is something that should be captured on film for... posterity's sake. Besides, they're just so cute together."
Halsey considered the possibility. Videotape of something like this would be extremely hot, he had to admit. Still, the way that the experience was presently burning itself into his memory made him wonder if he would ever really need it.
The bit about he and Linford being 'cute together' made him wince internally, though. It wasn't that he didn't like the fox or didn't care for him; quite to the contrary, he thought that Linford was a great guy. But there was a key difference in the level of emotions between someone that Halsey would get involved with romantically and someone that was a very good friend with whom he was comfortable enough to be open and free with his body.
Linford had recovered from his orgasm, it seemed, but he still avoided going directly for Halsey's dick. His tongue washed the excess saliva from the smaller canid's scrotum, and then prodded his balls with the tip of his nose. Halsey buried his face into the side of the fox's thigh, muffling his mix of moaning and laughter. His ears, pinned back against his head though they were, still caught the sounds of Derek and Toby chuckling over on the loveseat, and then, the folf realized that his whippy tail was smacking the coffee table in such a way that it was generating a comical series of batting sounds.
Overcompensating just a little bit, Halsey scooted himself further into the couch, which pushed his crotch more into Linford's face. The fox stretched himself out more along his backbone, bringing his muzzle in between Halsey's legs at an angle where it was possible to delicately nose the folf's testicles aside. Having done that, his slender vulpine tongue started to flick out rapidly at the tiny stretch of short-furred skin that reached from there back to his tail.
The folf's giggling stopped, and he rested his head on the side of Linford's legs while letting out what sounded like a soft, plaintive purr. With each damp pass of the tongue, the fox stretched his neck out further, eventually bringing his nose into contact with the base end of Halsey's tail. That tail curled up, as did the folf's fingers and toes, and his purr became a whine when he felt the wet caress of Linford's tongue at his tight little hole.
Halsey spread his legs, almost unwillingly, in order to give his friend some more room. The folf might have fooled around a fair bit, but this was a sensation that he wasn't terribly familiar with, and it showed in the way that his body twisted and writhed about. It was pleasurable, for sure, but the level of 'closeness' that it implied was making Halsey feel sort of uncomfortable. For the first few seconds of it, he wasn't sure if the physical aspect of the experience was making up enough for the psychological weirdness.
In the end, though, he let it go. Maybe Linford wasn't his boyfriend, sure, but Halsey didn't think that the fox was reading so deeply into it. Hell, maybe he was just as eager about licking underneath tails as Halsey was about cocksucking. It definitely felt eager -- and experienced, to boot. Halsey wasn't an expert, but he knew enough to know that he loved the way that Linford would trail the very tip of his tongue along in a circle just outside the little furless ring that was tucked down between his tail and rump cheeks, before switching gears and slathering that sensitive bud with a full-on, slobbery lick. The folf was starting to pant. For such little direct stimulation to his cock, it was certainly achingly hard, now.
If Linford noticed that, though, he didn't pay it any heed. One set of claws raked and ruffled through the white fur that covered the inside of the folf's thighs up near the crotch, but his muzzle was still firmly positioned where it had been. Halsey couldn't keep from occasionally bucking his hips, now, making his wet, glistening tip rub up against the front of the fox's soft, tender throat. In its own right, that made Halsey even more turned on, fueled by the occasional suckling kiss beneath his tail.
"Mmf. I'm... I'm close," Halsey breathed out in warning. At this rate, he was seconds away from blowing his load all over Linford's throat and chest. He knew that the fox wouldn't mind that, but with the extent to which the folf was pent up, he also knew that the poor couch that they were on wasn't going to escape unscathed... and Halsey hated the prospect of being a messy houseguest.
Linford took the hint, though, either way. He grabbed onto Halsey's hips, and flipped the shivering folf ninety degrees onto his back. Halsey looked down the gap between Linford's body and his own, catching a glimpse just in time as the fox brought his snout down right onto his stiff cock. The feeling of having almost the entirety of his twitching, straining shaft suddenly wrapped up so completely in a hot, wet muzzle was so blissful that it actually distracted Halsey from his body's need to get off, for a few moments. He closed his eyes and laid his head back on the sofa cushion, concentrating hard on the feel of Linford's lips, tongue, and cheeks for a few amazing seconds before he just let himself go sailing right over the edge, pumping spurt after spurt of semen straight up into his friend's mouth. Slack-jawed and more than satisfied, Halsey let his breathing level out on its own, tuning out the background noise of the sports broadcast to focus instead on Linford's hungry moaning as he swallowed the folf's juices.
When he pulled off, the fox gave Halsey's now-spent shaft a few token 'cleaning' licks, and then kissed a few times into the folf's crotch fur. He then sat back upright, lifting Halsey's bare feet up and slipping his lap beneath them before letting them go. The two looked back into one another's faces, and started to chuckle at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Or perhaps it was just post-orgasmic giddiness.
"You should probably put your shorts the rest of the way back on," Linford said emptily, both he and Halsey having both shifted their attention back to the game on the television.
Halsey looked down at his exposed crotch, flaccid cock, and damp fur. "Eh. More comfortable this way," he replied, shifting on his side to that he could still watch the game while keeping his legs in Linford's lap. "Besides, might get hard again. You never know."
Linford gave the base of the folf's spent shaft a squeeze between two fingers, and Halsey yipped and slapped a paw at the fox's side in weak retort. "Give it some time, big guy. No need to rush on my account."
"Fine, fine," Linford said, wiggling both of Halsey's big toes. "I suppose I can be patient." He leaned forward, reaching extra-far to grab snack mix for himself.
Derek turned to Toby, and gently swatted the back of his hand against the wallaby's pudgy tummy. "This team of yours had better win tonight, you realize."