The Summoning
Lightning flashed in the sky, piercing through the dark of night. Only barely was the moon visible between stormy clouds, making enough visibility to show a raccoon, who stood alone in an empty cemetery with only the cold whistling wind and desolate graves to keep company. Freezing rain fell from dark clouds, glazing every inch of the ground and tombstones. As he walked towards a gray shed, the grass beneath him crunched, leaving behind broken bits of grass. Every breeze and droplet of water sapped heat away from his body. It felt as if ice had formed in A heavy chain was attached to the door, keeping the shed locked. From under the coon's black raincoat, he pulled a bolt cutter, and squeezed the chain between the tool. Pain surged up through his wrists as groaned, but after enough straining, the ice-caked metal snapped, and the door slowly creaked open on its own.
His bare fingers reached out to the door, so cold that he could not even feel the ice crack against his fur as the metal was pulled further ajar. A sheet of the frozen rain fell off the door against the coon, surprising him. After kicking it away, he entered the shed, and closed the door off from the hellish winter night. Inside was too dark to see anything, which the male had suspected to be the case. Lighter flame shined in his emerald eyes as it lit up the room just enough for him to see into a pouch that was strapped around his waist. Inside were a few colored candles, a small animal statue of a bird, and a silver chalice. They were then carefully arranged in a circular pattern, and he sat on his knees in the center. Once he lit them, he held the silver cup up high.
With the chalice in hand, the black-clothed raccoon muttered a few phrases, and then bit into his own wrist. Crimson gradually flowed down his arm, matting his fur and dribbling into its new container. Once a sizable amount was accumulated, he said another phrase, and gulped down his own copper flavor. Then, he waited. And waited. But, as fortune would have it, nothing came into being, not even vapor.
"Ah well," he sighed, and began to blow out the candles one at a time, placing them back into his pouch afterward. "I figured it was a long shot." After gathering all his materials, he walked back through the frozen landscape and went back home.
Creaks emitted from the door's rusty hinges as he walked in. Immediately, his pet feral cat meowed loudly at him, and jumped on top of the couch next to the door. He patted the feline's head and closed the noisy front entrance, and flipped the light switch on.
Weak yellow light flooded the home, revealing the water damage on the ceiling, and the once-white walls' paint had cracked and faded with age. He sat down on the couch, the springs loudly groaning in pain, and reached for a remote stuffed behind one of the cushions, and turned the television on. Static covered the CRT's picture, and the color was off. Above the screen tilted a picture of a storming sea. After flipping through the channels and finding nothing of interest, he turned it off and walked to the kitchen.
Black grime filled the space between the tiles. Foul smells came from the full trashcan, yet to be taken out, amplified by a sink full of unwashed dishes. He opened the refrigerator, and bent down to his knees. Nothing was inside but a stick of butter, a nearly-empty jug of milk, eggs, and a pumpkin pie with only one slice left. Not feeling like cooking, he grabbed the pie and used its container as a plate, nibbling on it while he walked to his bedroom.
Various papers were strewn about over the floor, which he carelessly walked over to sit down in a faux-leather chair in front of a computer. The machine groaned to life, and as it was turning on, he took a moment to look around his room. Clean clothes laid on top of his drawers instead of inside them or in the closet immediately next to them, and his walls were just as damaged as the rest of the house. By the time the computer had finished starting up, he was almost done with his 'meal'.
For hours, he simply browsed the Internet, looking up the news, and sending a few messages to friends that he only knew online. A box opened up on his screen, from one such friend. "How did it go?"
With a bit frustration still lurking in his emotions, he hesitated to respond, "It was cold as shit. Might've been more fun if not for that. For now, I'm tired. Night."The conversation ended after turning his computer off. "How much longer?" he sighed, and crawled into his unmade bed. He grabbed a cover that had been lying on the ground, and threw it on top of himself to stay warm until he dozed off.
No matter how hard he squinted, all he could see was fog. There was no heat, no cold, no light. Nothing but an empty void with filled with luminescent smoke that which had no scent and otherwise no obvious substance beyond its appearance. The raccoon floated about in the emptiness, trying to stand, or turn, or do anything, but there was nothing for him to do so, and he helplessly whimpered in the nothingness. Red eventually began to overtake the black and gray-glowing smoke. The color coalesced until they appeared like eyes. Waves of smoke mimicked the effect of blinking, and there was an odd, vague grin-like shape in the air.
The smoke face chuckled, the sound echoing inside the coon's own head enough to make him wince. "Greetings, worm." Its voice was deep and hoarse, and a little painful to listen to.
"And there I was, getting a good night's sleep. About time I had a decent nightmare, I guess." He sighed, and kept trying to squirm to stand on his feet, despite knowing there was no ground.
The face took a more solid form. A creature, body made completely of smoke, floated towards the male until they were face-to-face Its eyes were still a neon ruby red, and its vapor hand gently placed itself on the raccoon's cheek. "Where you're going, everything is a nightmare. Lucky for you, that's neither here nor there. Not yet, anyways."
"Can I wake up now? This dream is boring." Despite the words, his voice shook slightly with cold fear. It was only slight, but it was enough to be noticed.
The creature before him grinned at the reaction, but otherwise made no note of it. "You contacted me. State why. And quickly, please. My time is precious, even if it is eternal."
"I contacted you?" The male's mind felt as clouded as area around him.
"Why, yes. You indeed did." The fog yawned, and smacked its incorporeal lips loudly. "Well, get to it, you don't want to waste your big moment."
He blinked a bit, still rather confused by the situation. But as his mind became lucid, it became apparent that this was only a dream, and probably because of the memories of last night being a disappointment. He had gone out there to do a ritual he had discussed with someone. It was mostly for fun, or at least he told himself that. But in truth, he was simply bored with life. Wasting so much time sitting around every day, so much time filling up pallets at work, and nothing ever changed.
Even if it could only be in his dreams, it was still something. "W-well," he stuttered, but cleared his throat. There was no reason to be shy, since this was not even real. The raccoon smirked, and reached out to the vapor's hips, though he could not really touch it. "Fuck me."
"Really?" the thing asked flatly, and turned its head. "Can't tell you how many souls I've taken just from stupid, lonely people. How boring."
He whimpered. "Please?"
"What are you, a virgin?" The vapor leaned in, and sniffed. "Not quite, it seems. But it's been awhile, hasn't it?"
Before the sentence was finished, the coon leaned in for a kiss. With his lips brushing against the smoke, he stuck his tongue out amateurishly and in futility. The phantom pulled back, and dug its hands into the male's shoulders. They felt real and sharp, and he whined in pain.
"As I was saying," the thing venomously whispered. "Maybe, if I think you're worth my time. But so far, I'm tempted to simply spirit you away..."
He reached for the hands on his shoulder, but there was nothing to be felt. The vapor, taking note of this, pressed his claws in more. Dream or not, it sure _felt_like small dribbles of his body's life-giving warmth was flowing from the sharp hands. "P-please," the raccoon managed to stutter out while gasping through the pain. "It's been so long for me. Ever since..."
"Whatever, whatever." It waved him off, turning its head away uninterestedly for a moment. "Fine, whatever. But not here," it shook its head, and then looked back with a small grin. "Light two red candles, and I will appear."
The vapor dissipated, and the area began to light up. He could feel wakefulness take over, and his eyes cracked open to the real world.
After the dream that night, he did not mention it to anyone, nor did he try to do as he was asked. It was simply a dream, and the thought of taking it seriously merely did not cross his mind. Hopes had already been crushed two weeks ago, and he did not wish to do it again.
Resting on a small, rotted table near his bed was an alarm clock, ringing wildly to wake the male up. With a groan, his palm slammed down on it to turn it off, and he turned to his side while still in bed, looking to the clock. It was an hour before work began, and the reading told him the batteries were not dead, or that the clock had worn out. It would probably happen one day, and all he did about it was check the clock every morning.
Next to the alarm stood a framed picture of the raccoon and a fox, nuzzling each other with care-free smiles on their faces. After a moment of staring at it, he sighed and laid the picture face-down, and got up to shower.
Mold grew in the corners of the bathroom, and there was the faint smell of stale urine in the air. Holding his nose, he flushed the toilet and shook his head. He pulled out his wallet and looked at the driver license's picture. Four years old, and still in clean, mint condition. But more importantly, the Terce Iwa in the picture looked happier, healthier. The one that lived now was frail and weak, with his skin sunk in slightly from being underweight and deterioration. The wallet was placed next to the sink, and once he took his shirt off, his ribs were visible. The rest of his bony figure was gradually shown once he fully stripped. Terce looked to himself in the mirror, and shrugged.
The only soothing he ever got every day was the rush of warm water in the shower. His fur became heavier as the liquid soaked into it. A purple bottle was squeezed, white ooze flowing out of it and accumulating onto Terce's palm. Strong, artificial apple-scented chemicals wafted to his nose, causing him to cringe slightly as the smooth shampoo was rubbed first into his headfur, and then gradually everything below. As his hands rubbed over his furred sheath, a light gasp came from his lips. How many months had it been since he even...? Without finishing the thought, the coon could not help but squeeze himself, grunting a little as his toes curled up, and he bit his bottom lip. But after a heavy sigh, he simply kept rubbing the rest of his body down until he was thoroughly cleaned.
Terce stepped out, and put on a pair of clean work clothes. Black clothes fit tightly around his brown fur, going nicely with some of the black rings around his tail and the 'fur mask' on his face. The pants had an excessive number of rings and chains, and the shirt was of a band that he did not even like. After brushing his fangs, he turned off the lights and left the house.
Brown boxes piled on top of the yellow pallet dolly, dragged behind the unenthusiastic raccoon. He brought it out to the t-shirt aisle, and began to randomly open up boxes with a box cutter. He pulled out the shirts one at a time, and snapped on plastic hangers from a bag sitting on the pallet. As he was hanging things up, a pair of bulls came in, the taller one black, the short one gray. Feelings of discomfort washed over Terce, and he tried to pretend that he did not notice the two. They were regulars who came in and usually did not buy anything, but instead made not-so-subtle passes. They stood on both his left and right, leaning against the walls. The gray one accidentally knocked down a shirt when he did much to Terce's dismay, but the bull quickly put it back up.
Blacky crossed his arms and smirked down at the coon. "Well, nice day at work, isn't it? Don't know how you're wearing that much." In contrast, all the other two had on were tight shorts and armless shirts, a size too small, showing off their buff chests that much more. While others might find it attractive, it made Terce rather uncomfortable. For goodness' sake, he was at work!
"It's comfortable enough inside." He spoke relatively cheerfully, and looked up to them with a plastic smile, though they did not seem to notice. "I don't see how you two wear such little clothing. It's cold out."
A hand suddenly wrapped over the raccoon's muzzle. He gasped in fear, but when he did, all he could smell was thick musk, like the person had just finished jacking off and had failed to wash his hands. He grabbed the black-furred arm and threw it off. He turned to them angrily, and pointed to the door. "Alright, that's enough. Just leave."
"Hey there, bro!" Gray held up his hands defensively, and then grabbed a random shirt behind him without even looking. "We're paying customers, alright?"
Terce shook his head, holding his face in a palm. Done pretending to be a passive, happy person, he simply threw himself behind the cash register at the back corner of the room, and waved to them to hurry. They tossed the shirt on the counter, and the raccoon couldn't scan it or shove it in a shopping bag fast enough.
"What time do you get off work?" Blacky asked, still smiling lustfully at the lither male before him.
He looked up with an annoyed expression. "I've played nice up to now. I'm not interested. Okay?"
The pain of rejection filled their eyes for a single moment. Calmly, money was handed over, and placed in the register. Finally, the bulls walked out, saying nothing more, and a wave of relief rushed to his head. Then, he checked his wristwatch.
In the dimly-lit breakroom, only a single light bulb hung from the ceiling in room made for at least twenty people. Terce sat holding his head up with one hand, idly poking a cupcake with another. Pink frosting stuck to the unlit birthday candle, and he brought them up to his lips, sucking the candles clean one at a time. Yellow and blue were down. Footsteps entered the breakroom behind him, but he didn't look to see who it was, even when the feet stopped right behind him.
A finger poked his shoulder. "Terce," a horse voice spoke. "I'm going to need to ask you to cut your break short. There's still a lot out there that needs to be done."
"Sure," he muttered. As the last bit of icing was scooped up with the wax sticks and licked off, the feet turned and walked away.
"Oh, happy birthday, by the way."
Terce picked up the cupcake, and tossed it into a trash can sitting about two feet away. "Thanks." As for the birthday candles, he stuffed them in his pocket. They were still useable, after all. Without pushing his chair back in, he rose up from the table and left.
The day could not end fast enough. Although no one else really came to bother him for the next few hours of his shift, the boring repetitiveness of wiping the counters down until they became damaged, and trying to stuff even more junk on the shelves that didn't need to be there. What stuff was his boss talking about that needed to get done? He would never know, but at least he didn't care.
Dilapidated buildings surrounded both sides of the street. Neon lights loudly buzzed and flickered, struggling to stay alive. Oil and burnt rubber stained the cracked road, and the sidewalk Terce walked on was not much better. Chunks of the sidewalk were entirely missing, having suffered years of being weathered down. Eventually, he made it out of the commercial district, and could barely see. Only the moon provided any light, and the coon could barely see in front of himself as he walked past litter-filled yards.
Voices from behind him made his ears flicker. Even if it wasn't entirely abnormal for someone other than him to be up and about, it still always made him uncomfortable. When he turned his head to look, there were two figures walking down the sidewalk in his direction. He turned back, and the voices stopped. But he knew, and could see, that they were still coming. But even as the voices stopped, the footsteps did not, and he could hear them walk faster. The raccoon increased his pace, but instead of running he reached into his pocket.
"Shit," he whispered to himself. He had forgotten his cell phone, either at work or home. All he had were those stupid birthday candles. Well, it was pretty dark here, and maybe lighting them would make it easier for others, namely potential witnesses, to see him. Better yet, it might scare these guys off without it ending in him running and crying for help.
Every one was pulled out, and he grabbed a lighter from pocket. The thing couldn't be left on for more than maybe thirty seconds before the plastic became so hot that it could burn his hand, so it was necessary to utilize the candles. Quickly, he flicked it on, and lit them all. With all eight of the small candles lit, held tilted forward so the wax would drip to the ground instead of falling on his skin, it made a substantial amount of light. Even if it was a small action, it made him feel safer. But the people didn't stop behind him. They were close, maybe about thirty feet away now. The fur on the back of his neck stood up, and he was about to run.
The smoke from the candles seemed to thick that he coughed. He looked down, shocked to see that it was way more than what even a cigarette would do. Two of the flames burned more brightly than the others, and the fire eventually changed colors, matching the red of the colored birthday wax. Amidst all the fog, the two flames appeared almost like eyes, and the smoke coalesced into a grin-like face. As if a firework smoke bomb had just been lit, the vapor quickly engulfed him. The last thing he heard were screams.
"Ugh," the coon groaned. Blood rushed to his head as he tried to sit up, and the dizziness made him decide to stay laying down. A comforting hand rested on his chest.
"Are you alright?" The voice was as sweet as honey, and carried a warm, minty scent. "You passed out in the street, sweet stuff. You had me worried."
It was far more real than a dream. The smell, the warmth, the sense of touch. The bright daylight shined through the living room window of their home, making the red, perfectly clean carpet glow and feel like a comforting nest. Terce slowly sat up, regardless of the pain surging through him, and stared into the fox's golden eyes. A hand reached up and rested on the fox's face, feeling the soft fur rub against his hand. Tears welled up in his eyes, until he suddenly hugged the other male tightly. Laughs erupted from the fox, and he squeezed back.
"What's wrong, Terce? You're acting like you haven't seen me in years," he giggled, and gave the coon a lick on the cheek before gently pushing him back.
He wiped away the tears from his cheeks, and smiled back to his long-lost love. "It's because I haven't, Scept."
"What are you talking about?" The fox laughed again, and his eyes began to glow a deep red. "You only dreamed of me two days ago, and then you ignored me. Something hold you up, worm?"
Confusion filled his eyes, and he narrowed his look. "Huh?" The sun darkened, until it cooled down into a silver moon. Cold began to sap all the heat he had been feeling before away, and the fox's fur began to fall out. Terce crawled away in fear. "S-Scept? Are you okay?" But instead of skin being underneath the fur, there were dark feathers. Dirt formed over the windows, blocking part of the view of the sun. The muzzle turned into a black beak. Before long, a raven sat before him, legs crossed, wings on his back spread wide, and clacking his beak as he laughed.
"Who, who are you?" Terce gasped, backed as far away from the stranger as he could be, now against a wall. A home phone rested next to him, and he eyed it, considering calling the police.
The creature seemed to pick that up, and scoffed. "That won't be necessary. I was the one who helped you, after all. You called for me - again. Your memory isn't that bad, is it?" Its voice was relatively normal, but still deep, and clearly belonging to a male.
Memories of the dream came flashing to him. The candles, the smoke, and then the images of last night. "Who were they? The ones chasing me."
"The same assholes from your work place," the avian scoffed. "Seems they have a thing for you. Why don't you? You're desperate enough for it."
"Can't you tell? They're creepy and stupid!" Terce huffed and crossed his arms. Then, he blinked and looked into those red eyes. "Wait, you're..."
"Real? Completely!" The bird cackled, its beak smacking together loudly each time. "Don't worry. Nothing bad will come to you yet. I'm not here to harm you. I did not harm those stalkers, either." That seemed to relieve the coon a bit. "Now then," he continued. "Our deal was pretty simple..."
The raccoon shook his head. "You can't possibly hold me up to that deal. I wasn't even awake at that time. It's not a legitimate agreement!"
"Details, details!" The dream creature waved a hand dismissively. "The point is you agreed to it. That's all that matters in this world, sweet stuff."
Terce's heartbeat stopped at those final words. His breathing rapidly became heavier, his mouth dropped a little, and he stared into the pupiless ruby eyes. Slowly, he pushed himself up, and crawled over to the bird to touch his beak. A tear ran down his cheek, and he choked out,
"What... did you call me?"
"Huh? Are your feelings that easily hurt, worm?" The demon grabbed the hand and pulled it away. Not painfully, but forcefully. "I thought such a phrase was relatively polite, all things considered."
"No!" Terce shook his head. "The other thing."
The raven tilted his head, looking confused. "The other thing?" A long pause followed, and his eyes wandered down to the ground, deep in thought, before his beak opened up again to speak. "Sw... sweet stuff?" It was stated as a question, and he looked up at Terce with his arms crossed. "I do not know why that's stuck in my head. But it's irrelevant."
Warm lips pressed against the summon's beak, the ringtail's tongue softly licking over the bony black beak. The dripping tongue pressed inside, and lapped inside the the raven's mouth while his hands squeezed the bird's sides. He used his weight to push the bird to lay down, who wrapped his wings around Terce in response. After a long moment, the kiss was broken, a string of saliva connecting their mouths together.
"Well, it seems you've accepted your fate, at least," the bird grinned, and then bit the coon's neck softly.
A light gasp came from him, and Terce leaned his neck back to reveal more. "What is your name?"
"You wouldn't be able to pronounce my true name." The raven cawed in laughter, and tapped his talons against the coon's ass. A musky scent flowed in the air, and a warm hardness prodded against Terce's thigh. "But, why don't you just call me Abon?"
"Abon," he repeated, while rubbing a hand over the avian's thighs. "Were you ever alive? In this world, I mean."
There was no hesitation, and a slight grin on the bird's face. "No." As well, no elaboration. How could the demon sound sure, when he was so hesitant and confused moments ago by his own words? Regardless, he continued the kiss, forcing his beak to poke slightly into the raccoon's muzzle, opening it up to slither his thin tongue down the other male's throat. As Terce whimpered, gulping over the thick sponge prodding into his gullet, Abon raked his talons up the coon's thighs, the sharp finger-daggers digging through the male's clothes enough to physically cut them. Terce writhed, inadvertently grinding himself over the nude bird,a slight whimper escaping his muzzle as he felt a patch of wet warmth smear over his own tent, and assumed it was the bird's pre without looking. Right after giving the raccoon's ass a firm squeeze, Abon gripped the ringed tail and pulled on it, followed by a very firm bite on Terce's neck.
Before the raccoon could think, the fox squeezed his ass, and roughly grabbed his mate's hate in order to pull it back and bite into his neck. A light taste of copper filled his mouth, and Terce wined softly. "Bona," he moaned, and rubbed his hard cock against his lover's stomach fur. The tickly fuzz made him mix giggles and moans, and he couldn't help but give a hard thrust and soft moan. Terce's claws drug into the fox's side, and he bit onto the vulpine's lips, pulling gently.
"Bona..." he whimpered, causing the raven to raise an eyebrow. The name was not recognized. No matter. After plenty of clawing and tearing had mostly destroyed Terce's clothes, they were easily ripped from the coon's body and tossed aside.
Terce pushed himself off from the raven, and laid on the ground, naked after his clothes were destroyed. Abon grinned at him, and slowly moved atop. The two's body warmth mingled, sweat falling down to the raccoon slowly while beads of liquid dripped from the avian down onto himself. His maw hung open, catching the beads of musky sweat into his maw, swallowing down the salty substance eagerly. For a moment, the two stared into each other's eyes with an odd combination of both lust and longingness, neither of which completely understood.
They both closed each other's eyes, and kissed once more. Avionic saliva overfilled Terce's maw, droplets falling down his chin and down his neck, over his chest, smeared together against the two's nipples. The heat spread through his chest, making the coonboy moan, wiggling underneath the stronger, heavier male. He kissed the hard beak once more, nibbling on it.
Terce grabbed the throbbing dick pressing against him. Veins cried against his fingertips, eagerly begging for attention at his mere touch. The coon, despite his hardness, pulled his sheath over his length. The sheath was pulled over the avian's dick, and then back and forth. Bona's favorite had always been this, the coon giving softly humps against his mate's cock all the while they hugged one another tightly, pre-ing over each other until the ground beneath them had been soaked with their lustful desires. Abon's beak hung open, and he moaned while his temporary partner slurped on his tongue, gulping it half-way down his own throat.
Their arousal was both at maximum, and they panted into each other's open mouths while they stared into each other's eyes. "Do you still..." Rather than answer, or even let the other male finish, Abon flipped the fox over, smothering him between his sweaty, feathery chest and the dirt-covered carpet. As the two frotted and docked, the sweat and pre that poured from them mixed with the grime they rubbed onto themselves, forming a nearly mud-like substance, smearing over them like a disgusting lubricant.
Hands squeezed Abon's shoulders, fingertips feeling the tops of his wings. "Ple..." terce started, but was cut off with his own moan. A grime-lubed finger pressed firmly against his tailstar, threatening to penetrate him with every teasing prod. Over and over, the fingers partially sunk in, and pulled out the moment before they could finish the job. The raven leaned his beak in, nipping at the soft, furry coon ears before giving a lick inside them and whispering,
"Beg me."
Whimpers came in reply, Terce begging the demon in a shy, embarrassed voice, too low for anyone else to hear, but plenty loud for the intended purpose. It was all he needed. The fingers thrust hard, making the raccoon almost jump up from the ground in a sudden shock of sensation. The begging look in the emeralds was the only thing the raven needed to see. Inches later, the bird's fingers were knuckles-deep inside the coon, causing him to squirm with lustful moans, claws digging beneath the raven's feathered exterior and digging at his flesh.
Rapidly, the pace quickened while all Terce could do was moan for mercy. With one hand, Abon stuffed another finger and spread his digits, and the other gripped the throbbing, fat coondick, thumb facing towards the male's body, pulling against the glands each time it came forward. Shocks of uncontrollable urges flowed throughout Terce's body, and he humped against the tight grip on his cock eagerly, moaning out each time, hands squeezing the forearm of the raven to keep it from pulling back.
Something vaguely familiar seemed to strike Abon, and he shook his head, shaking off the sensation. He pulled his cock from the warm sheath, as good as it felt, and squeezed Terce's thighs. They forcefully spread, and the raven moved himself to press his pulsing, leaking tip against the coon's entrance. The substance provided enough lube for the avian's tip to sink in just slightly, enough for Terce to whimper. Terce placed his hands on the raven's hips, pulling him closer. "Tell me you want it," the raven whispered into the coon's ears with a grin. "Beg me, damn it!" Terce turned his head away, eyes closed in embarrassment. Did the raven really need him to say such a thing, verbally? Or was it simply for fun? Either way...
"P-please..."
That's all he needed. Abon immediately thrust into the coonhole, eliciting a loud cry from the bottom. Terce raked his claws upwards over the bird's stomach, stopping at his chest to pinch his nipples. Abon winced slightly, and had a vague sense of deja vu as he responded to the squeeze by slowly pulling himself back out completely, and then quickly sunk his full length back in, over and over. Each time, his inner rings squeezed desperately to the pulsing rod, trying to prevent it from escaping once more.
Abon held in two fingers of each hand inside the raccoon's hole, spreading him wide, making it easier for him to sink in and pull out without Terce trying to cling him to stop. Both had their mouths hung open, the bird drooling right into the other male's open maw, which the raccoon happily gulped down. Slowly, Terce curled his legs around the bird's waist, squeezing the avian closer to him. He leaned up, giving the feathers a lick before whispering in between moans and whimpers, "Do you remember anything?"
"N, no." The bird stumbled on his own words, sounding unsure of them. But even after he said that, something seemed off. Or rather, the opposite. It felt like it was something he hadn't done in awhile, and missed. But he took 'jobs' like this all the time, what was there to miss?
By now, the thrusting had picked up its pace, Abon no longer pulling completely out in order to save time. Terce bounced slightly off the ground after each thrust, not holding back his lustful cries, while the bird grunted with constrained lustful sounds. Sweat and grime smeared over the bird's hips and the coon's ass. Sharp electrical shock ran through both of their bodies, quivering against one another as they looked into each other's shaking eyes. "Bona..." the coon whispered, moments before the pleasure overtook him completely.
"Terce," he growled, and then screamed, slamming his hips enough to make the raccoon's ass so sore that it felt slightly numb. And then, euphoria overtook every sense both held. Nothing could stop them anymore, having crossed the point of no return. Their talons and claws respectively dug into one another as heat rushed into the coon's ass. White droplets trickled down his thighs, forming a warm pool underneath the two. Globs of white spunk smeared over the avian's stomach, and as they collapsed onto one another, it smeared into Abon's feathers and skin.
They laid their together, breathing directly into one another's open mouths while they stared into each other's glowing eyes. Minutes passed, the two simply smelling each other's mess and eying each other like shy schoolboys. Eventually, they looked away from one another, mumbling various things to change the subject to something less awkward.
"Well..." the coon began, tapping on the bird's shoulder.
"So..." Abon started, and looked up, Terce's body not even in his sight. "Guess that's the end of the deal, isn't it?"
He looked down, a little sad. "Oh. Yeah." That was kind of what he agreed to, after all. "Do I die now, or what?"
"Hm," the bird paused, looking down to Terce with a slight smile. "One day, perhaps. But not today." With a loud 'plop,' Abon pulled himself out and wiped himself down with his own hands, licking his hands clean after.
"What do you mean?" Terce asked, standing up with the demon.
"Call it an act of mercy." Abon laughed a little. Smoke began to envelope his body, his eyes glowing in the smoke until they were all that was left visible beneath the veil. When the coon reached out to pull the bird, there was nothing there but empty air, and the fog wafted to and fro with the male's frantic attempts to find something. "Don't be so desperate. One day... One day, we'll meet. Just wait a little longer."
"But, but-!" The eyes dissipated, leaving only a thick, choking smoke. Terce coughed, and fell to his knees as he kept desperately looking for someone who was not there. For someone who was long gone. He slammed his fists into the ground. "Bona..."