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Drag night at ZigZag was going really well, for a change. 'Samantha' gave me a friendly smile as she sat my Steely Stoat Stout on the table, "Let me know how that one is, cutie, been meaning to try it," came the seductive voice.

This dude was good, real good, and I found my eyes drawn to that swaying, ringed coon tail as he walked to another table. Perfect goddamn species if you wanted to do drag, really. Raccoon gals tended to be on the more voluptuous side of the female body types, and it wasn't a big stretch for coon boys to present. He was new, too. Every Friday at ZigZag the servers donned drag, and every Friday I was there with my little posse.

It was a little secret of mine. I'd always wanted to bang one of the drag queens at the bar, and I really couldn't tell you why. I never had the urge to cross dress on my own (unless you count that time my mom walked in on her little Billy in her high heals and a skirt when I was about nine). Frankly, I'd always been far too shy to try flirting beyond the playful banter that they did as part of the job. I also always had the feeling that they really might not appreciate someone fetishizing what they were doing. This 'Samantha', though, was a little different. She--or rather he--had taken the initiative right off the bat. Could probably use a better name, though, Sam/Samantha was a little too obvious.

He'd commented on my sports jersey, gave me in depth opinions on each of the beers on tap that week, and pulled off one hell of a chick. I thought of the way those blue eyes behind that furred mask had been looking me over the past few hours as I took a sip of my beer. Oooo, it was a good one, real damn good; a little heavy on the chocolate tones, though.

The two tigers that I'd come with were whispering to each other; giving me a glance here and there in their private conversation. Those big canine teeth of theirs greeted me as they both grinned simultaneously. "Hey Bill," said the shorter, white tiger on the left.

I set my drink down and sighed dramatically for effect. "Yes, Dale?"

Dale didn't answer. Instead, the beefy Bengal to my right reached a hefty paw over and placed it on mine while he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "So uh, you gonna ask that raccoon dude to go home with ya? It's obvious he wants you, Buckaboo."

My ears flicked and my cheeks felt flush, and it wasn't because of the alcohol. The mere mention of that little pet nickname got me blushing every time, especially from someone who'd been balls deep in me the last time he uttered it like Carl had been. He was right, just like he always was. A quick glance at my phone said that it was almost last call. "I'll ask him next time he comes by."

"Good, because if you leave with us tonight it's just a damn shame."

'Samantha' was around pretty soon, and my friends took the chance to excuse themselves outside for a smoke. The coon smirked and sat down in the booth next to me. Normally that was something that made me a little uncomfy--a waiter or waitress getting fake-intimate-- but this time I found myself scooting up next to them. "Hey stud, how's that beer?" he asked. I told him all about it, while the coon nodded and made a few notes on his notepad for future reference. "You really seem like you have a handle on your beers, Bill. It's Bill, right?"

I groaned inwardly at the handlebar antler joke, but laughed and smiled at it all the same: Coonboy was allowed to get away with it. "You like Lambics?"

Bam, that was a hit. The raccoons eyes widened, his tail wagged, and his ears perked up. Damn he really looked like a girl, even that close I couldn't see any obvious indications of fake boobage, or dyed fur patterns. "You have no idea." I'd sure like to.

"Well," I leaned in, brushing my side against his, "I have quite a little collection..." I paused, knowing that I was about to drop the bomb, "if you wanted to ever, ya know, come back to my place."

It felt like there was about ten minutes of awkward silence, and I'm sure I had a creepy, nervous looking smile as I waited for a response.

"A'ight," Sam nodded, and kept nodding as he went on, "I'll have myself cut and we can get out of here in a little bit."

Wow, that easy, huh? He gave me a playful little tug on my antlers before heading for the kitchen and out of sight. A few tables away I caught sight of my feline friends waving their arms to get my attention. Once they had it they gave thumbs up with a questioning shrug.

Thumbs up.

*

The beer tasted better out of the glass, but getting a hint of the flavor off Sam's tongue was more stimulating. A couple bottles and some flirty talk later and the touching and nibbling and kissing was on. There wasn't any pretense as to why he was over; a fact he made clear when he found my bulge with his hand.

My antlers made a tapping sound against the wall as I leaned my head back. Raccoon paws were the best. Something about those dexterous and flexible digits made them as skilled in the bedroom as they were anywhere else. Trust me, I'd know, I dated a coon a few years ago, and man o man.

"Woah, hey there, big buck." I curled my lips into a smile while I looked down. Yeah, I was a big boy, and Sam was admiring the outline that ran from my crotch down my left thigh. Raccoon boy was almost drooling. I could see he was hungry for me in those pretty eyes of his. In fact, I was so busy looking into those alluring pupils that I didn't even notice that my zipper was being undone; until I heard it being yanked down rather unceremoniously.

This is where I liked to just close my eyes and let someone do their magic on me. Sam's teasing through my boxers didn't satisfy him for long, and like everyone who's been with me he couldn't wait to get that big bulge out in the open. He did, and those dexterous fingers were all over me. I couldn't help but crack my eyes open and take a glance. Knew it. Sam was looking over that big shaft with a mixture of emotions while he stoked me up, and down. Could he take it? He wanted to. That was determination on his face more than anything else.

The couch shifted as the raccoon moved from being next to me to being on his knees on the carpet. His tongue was hot, and his breath from his nose felt great on the saliva that he left on my shaft as he licked and lapped his way down it. It stopped as suddenly as it'd started. "Ah screw this foreplay, I need that in me."

Music to my ears.

Here it was, the moment I'd been waiting for: seeing that 'girl' shed those clothes and the magic to be ruined. My little tuft of a tail was wagging against the cushion of the couch and I couldn't help but lean forward as Sam dropped his drawers. My eyes followed the jeans down to the floor, and then zeroed in on the pink panties. He smirked and made a show of hooking his fingers in them and slowly removing 'em.

My tail stopped wagging.

Where was the dick?

Oh, no. No, no way, I couldn't be this fucking stupid, could I? This woman was a woman.

A little whiff of that feminine scent hit my nose as I felt the weight of Samantha on my lap as she straddled me and teased my cock with her moist crotch fur.

"Somethin' wrong, buck?"

Clearly she'd spotted my absolute befuddlement. I had nothing, just shook my head as I ran through the night in fast forward. Just pretend it's a butt. Her lips brushed mine in a soft, warm peck as she finagled her way into position. Those weren't the only lips brushing me, though. The tip of my cock found itself in a warm, soft, and inviting place. Here goes.

I rocked my hips up and into her; surprised by just how tight things were... or not, I realized as she rolled her eyes and took hold of my shaft with her fingers. "C'mon, lower then that." With everything lined up--properly this time-- she took the initiative and lowered herself.

Samantha cooed and sighed contently as she surrounded me. It wasn't a butt, and there wasn't much use pretending otherwise. It was an entirely new sensation on my sensitive flesh. It was warm, and inviting, as I seemed to disappear inside there; not without resistance, but not requiring any special effort.

"Ooo," she shivered, "you're way bigger than I'm used to." Her claws dug into my sides as our hips met. I snorted through my nostrils and pulled back tentatively before pushing back in again. Why the hell had I never tried this, again?

That's when she grabbed my antlers. We deer endure a lot of handlebar jokes, mind you. Really, you can't impress me with an antler joke, no matter how clever you think it is. That being said, grabbing them while I'm balls deep? That's taking the express lane to Getting Fucked Town.

Samantha wasn't a petite girl, but she was bouncing up and down with each thrust of my hips in no time. She was making all sorts of crazy noises as I drove into those hot depths, and I was getting whiffs of scents that I didn't know existed. Hump by hump that growing tingling sensation grew inside me, and I was powerless to resist the instincts I never knew I had.

I couldn't handle things much longer. My arms wrapped around her frame possessively as I held her tight; helpless against my pounding. Finally it hit me, and I drove in deep with a feral growl as I came.

I couldn't tell you if she climaxed as well, but she certainly did something as I filled up her insides. Things calmed down, and we held each other in a panting, out of breath afterglow.

"Well," Sam spoke softly into my ear, "I'm glad I finally found the only not gay dude at ZigZag."

My tail wagged a little. If she only knew.