Zenith
Something I wrote in 6 hours as a submission for Heat 6; I haven't heard back from them so mehhhh I will just post it now. This is not very spoogy, so-as to conform to Heat's guidelines of story-writing: mild nudity and lots of cheese. Not really sure why they weren't interested; I've been severely unimpressed with what has made it in there before. Anyway, so yeah. Quick and short without any real sex, but penises touching.
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The staunch, parallel flurries of white on black raced across the jet asphalt as halogen blue-white of headlights made them almost blinding against the penetrating dark that seemed to devour everything else beyond them, the night sky a deep and incomprehensible shade of violet as the starscape interrupted it with pinpoints of distant, flickering yellow; it was 1940's gaslight Noir along these back roads with the only thing missing being the fedora.
I just couldn't believe what I had just heard. It was only a moment ago that this wasn't anything special; this was just getting a ride home at 11 at night. But as I recoiled, my eyes just followed the lane stripes, moving up and down along their endless length, making them slow down and speed up as I searched for the right response, any response at all, other than that one that I could feel welling up in the backs of my eyes, almost trying to push them out of their sockets.
"I don't understand." My nose was pressed against the cooled glass of the passenger window, crystalline fog spreading and receding as sharp and labored breaths tried to permeate the Plexiglas. I waited for a moment, hoping that that was all that was needed to elicit a response, not wanting to really say what I suddenly needed to say. I was too afraid, but a response never came: just the gentle whir of the engine and the occasional inconsistency in the road echoing through the car.
"What do you mean... you don't think you want a relationship?" I thought I was stifling the choked sob that kept creeping up further and further along my throat with each syllable, but I couldn't really tell; I couldn't tell if I even cared, I just couldn't feel anything right now.
I could sense the eyes of the coyote against the back of my neck, making it tingle with reproach as the grandiose, "Oh, I think you didn't understand what I meant." Fantasy-response was what I had forced myself to expect, but shockingly, something completely different came out of his mouth, each word making my ears slowly crumble further and further against my skull. "I'm just not sure what other people would think about it. I mean, we barely know each other, and they might think I'm a bit fucked up if I'm suddenly dating some 18 year old I met online."
Then I felt it. That thing you get in your chest. That irrepressible indicator of being absolutely crushed, and suddenly the pressure behind my eyelids started to subside as saline moisture began to escape, my fingers anxiously toying with each other as they dug themselves into my palms. There were so many things I wanted to say, and they all came exploding into my head at the same time, but my lips wouldn't move; all I could do was just sit there in awkward loneliness, a couple of inches separating my left elbow from his right, but it felt like a mile, and I was sort of wishing it were even further. I wanted to scream out things like, "Then why the fuck did you tell me you loved me?!" or, "But you knew this was my first time." I didn't really know how I wanted him to feel, but the way he delivered his allegedly impromptu Dear John felt brutally cold and calculated, affection devoid from his voice.
Twenty-eight minutes passed, and I stepped out of the car. He said nothing, and I said nothing. I was home; my bed was only a few steps away. I didn't know whether to turn around and say goodbye; part of me wanted to win him back, part of me wanted him to know I was hurt, and part of me knew that he didn't care about either. I was used. And before I could even make up my mind, I heard the drudge of speckled detritus crumble beneath tires as he backed out. That's when I knew there was nothing I could do. So I walked up the driveway, my thick, plumed tail hanging limp and lifeless between my legs as it dragged across the ground; fuck it, I can just clean it tomorrow.
I could feel the red, embered heat of total humiliation across my face and cheeks, the stinging aftermath of tears held back, and the weakness of a monumental loss through every part of my body as the 15 second walk to my front door felt like an eternity. "Shit..." The lights were still on. My dad would want to know how my time "at the movies with my friends" was. He didn't know I was gay; I didn't really know how he never picked up on it. There wasn't a single, masculine thing about me except for the fact that I happened to have a dick in my pants at the moment. Wavy hair hung over my deep, blue-violet eyes, obscuring the effeminate features that could make foxes envious; an immaculate and pristinely white coat of sinfully dense mink fur clung to every inch of a lithe form, a budding wall of abdomens accented by a hold hoop belying accentuated hips and the sort of butt that you could sink your fingers half-way into clinging to the insides of Dior jeans, against which a nearly five foot tail dangled from the back of a five-foot-four mustelid.
My paws quickly worked the yellowed, tell-tale rheum from the fur beneath my eyes as I took in a deep, congested sniff, clearing my nose of anything else too inconspicuous. I held my shoulders up high, standing up straight, and swung the door open, trying to look as though nothing had transpired other than another evening wasted with my friends at the theater.
"So how was the movie?"
"It was good."
In a flash I was in my room, years of practice making the art of simultaneously closing the door and locking it effortless. The word "dive" seems to carry the connotation of exuberance, so perhaps the better word for what I did would be "collapse"; yes. I collapsed into my bed, not bothering to flick the lights off or even take off my clothes; I just wanted to be as alone as possible, and I wanted it immediately. My arms clung to my pillow as I buried my face into the downy cushion; I wanted to scream. Suddenly everything was playing back in my head in a thousand different ways, from the very beginning to the very end, every single diatribe of conversation dissected into infinity and Freudian absurdity as visions of violence and self-loathing crashed through my head like a raging river. Whimpers escaped my lips as suddenly the thought of what had transpired on that coyote's bed made me cringe in disgust. My lip instinctively curled into a snarl at the sheer thought.
But it was all I could think about. The heaving, the sweating, the escalating breath against the back of my neck that all felt so good an hour ago suddenly made me feel like I was filled with worms, the vision of the two silhouettes rocking monotonously back and forth against the darkened backdrop of white walls making my teeth clench in repulsion.
It was what I thought I wanted. I thought it would make me happier than anything else; to be with someone I loved... in that way. But it wasn't. Even when I still thought he loved me it wasn't anything special; it was fifteen minutes of sweat, mild pain and physical pleasure that meant nothing more than the bodily fluids that were spilled across the satin canopy it took place in, and that's what hurt the most. Maybe it was just him, or maybe that's just what sex really was. No candle light. No epiphany.
But, slowly, it all started to fade. It lingered, it would probably linger for a long time, but it started to get dull. Then, everything started to get dull, until I just wasn't feeling anything any more. I rolled over onto my back, feeling the dampness against the back of my head where my face had been for what felt like hours, just staring blankly up towards the stucco ceiling that I had stared at all my life, but somehow it felt alien right now.
I was exhausted, and I didn't want to think any more. I begrudgingly got up and made my way to the light switch, dispatching my clothes on the way back as I tossed them haphazardly into the corner, falling into the bed with all the lack of enthusiasm I had before as I slowly let myself drift to sleep, trying to think about anything other than what had transpired a few hours ago. And eventually it worked.
Knock, knock, knock. I groaned and rolled over onto my side, enjoying that brief moment where everything was familiar, until I remembered what it was that I was already striving to forget. Did somebody knock at my door? I took a peek at the alarm clock and felt a little guilty as the numerics 11:34 flashed at me, realizing just how late I had slept. But there it was again. Knock, knock, knock.
"Yeah?" I just figured it was my dad, and I was suddenly not looking forward to what would assuredly be a long, drawn-out conversation about how I'm wasting my life by not spending the few moments that weren't occupied with high school trying to get a job, and the last thing I needed right now was to have to sit through lengthy drudgery I had already heard twelve times this month.
"Dude, open your door!" Oh shit! I had completely forgotten that I had invited my friend over to hang out this afternoon, and besides that, he was earlier. The worst part about it was the fact that he knew exactly where I was last night. He was really the only person I felt close enough to tell him about my sexuality; most people figured it out on their own, but it was something I was still a little bit embarrassed about, only figuring it out for myself about a year ago, but I had known Mike since the third grade, and I somehow just felt safe about telling him.
"One second, man..." I slowly slid out of the bed, struggling to find the floor with my feet for a moment until I managed to sleepily wobble over to the corner I had tossed my clothes in. I quickly slid the pants up my legs, although not really bothering with the underwear, considering they were a bit messy from last night, nor the shirt. My feet shuffled across tacky, beige carpet until I reached the door, unlocking it and letting it swing open, cringing as the door handle made an ominous, cracking sound against the wall next to my closet.
And there stood Mike, with a big, stupid grin splayed across his face, as if he were a child up to something no good. "Sooo...." he rolled his eyes, but miserably failed to be coy, which was never one of the strong suits of the husky. I had a general idea of what he was going to ask me, and my head dipped down towards my chest a bit, definitely not wanting to talk about it, even with him. "Are you sore?"
I didn't really know how to respond. It was awkward talking to him about those sort of things seeing as how he was straight; on the one hand, I didn't want to lie to him, but on the other I didn't want to bother him with how I was feeling right now. The more and more I woke up, the more and more I felt like I did the night before, tendrils of hurt reminiscently making me feel weighted, so all I responded with was a, "Yeah, sorta." And come to think of it, I sort of did; just another reminder.
"Kinky." That silly grin only got wider; he seemed to get no end of glee out of that fact knowing how excited I was about the idea; I had been talking about the coyote with him for several weeks. It was almost a team effort; he really got involved, asking me nearly every day when I was finally going to see him, and somehow it felt like I let him down. He knew I was a virgin, and for some reason he just got really interested.
As the red and white sled dog slipped into my bedroom next to me I almost melted, which I did absolutely every single time he touched me, as his sturdy, coiled tail accidentally batted at my thigh on his way in. It was a bit awkward knowing he knew I had a crush on him, but it was really impossible not to. He had that swim star's body; strong and lean, but still sort of adorable and cute in its own way, air-brushed brick red splashed across his predominantly white body as ice-blue eyes shimmered with that characteristic canine warmth that disarmed me without effort and without fail every time I looked into them. It wasn't as though I went about broadcasting my crush on him, but there were a few more-than-embarrassing incidents. He was always willing to pretend it never happened, which only made me like him more.
"So tell me all about it!" He casually flopped into one of the beanbag chairs cluttering the space in front of my TV, fidgeted with his shirt a bit until it wasn't clinging beneath his arms, and tapped his toes on the ground while kicking off his sandals.
I evaded, my eyes looking over into the wall for a moment before I came up with anything. "Aww, c'mon man, I just woke up. Ask me when I'm more awake." I sunk down into the other beanbag next to him, occasionally stealing a glance at whatever body part I thought I could get away with, although it all felt sort of wrong now, but luckily he did any of the work for me and tossed me a Guitar Hero controller, apparently in the mood to play some video games.
"I'm gonna slaughter you on Reign in Blood." He leaned over and grabbed the remote, flicking the television screen on and finding the right input immediately; he had done it a thousand times by now, so he already knew exactly where to go as the drawn out intro to the game flashed images of feline guitar virtuosos and Norse mythology.
"It's Raining Blood; Reign in Blood is the album you 'tard. Besides, don't you have three stars on that song?" This received a kick to my foot, which resulted in a jab of his shoulder with my guitar, and eventually we got the game underway. Rapid clusters of greens and blues were interspersed with arduous loading times as the games slowly got more and more competitive, neither of us exactly being an expert but good enough to have some fun as we occasionally argued over which song to play, and subsequently argued about what the best system to avoid arguing over which songs to play, but we always got it worked out.
I think I won more than he did, but at the moment all I could think about was the rumbling in my stomach, realizing I hadn't eaten anything in almost 20 hours as I looked over at the alarm clock and was a bit surprised to find that it was already 2 in the afternoon. I was already starting to forget the reason I was so upset last night, just happy to have a friend over to chill with. "Hey, I'm gonna go down to the kitchen to get something to eat. Do you want anything to drink?"
"What do you have?"
"I dunno." So it was decided that we'd go down together. We made our way to the fridge, upon which was plastered a sticky-note. "Be back around 11PM. Called in to work. Money on dining table 4 pizza. -Dad" As I read it, Mike peeled open the refrigerator door, using it to shove my body away as he did so, his paws returning a couple moments later with a pair of Cokes as he tossed one to me. I hopped up onto the counter, carefully prying the tab up as it popped open, letting it fizzle for a couple moments before taking a sip.
"So come on man, tell me about your date!" He leaned back, almost posing, although with his body it seemed as though anything was posing, taking a deep glug of soda before setting it down on the counter.
My eyes darted towards the tiled floor, a faint, pink blush showing unmistakably through the fine, snowy fur on my cheeks as I took another sip from the can, too scared to tell him what actually had happened. "It was ok." It was all I wanted to say. I knew he wouldn't be satisfied with that, but I figured I could deflect more specific questions than open ended ones.
"Oh don't be like that. Give me details! Do you think you'll see him again?" He said, obviously excited, which only made me feel worse, not only for lying to him, but it also felt like I was letting him down; it was silly, but he had high hopes, and I didn't want to give him any bad news, and definitely didn't want to go gushing about my feelings to him. We were close, but we weren't girls or anything.
"Yeah, I dunno. Maybe. He was alright." I thought I was doing ok, but he just looked at me with an expression of puzzlement, as if trying to divine something from my face, my eyes locking onto his for a moment as his gaze felt like it was peering into my brain. "What?" I squirmed a bit, looking away and towards the fridge again as I took another sip, trying to look as relaxed as possible, but it was impossible to force myself to say anything particularly positive about that night.
He just stood there. It was agonizing. He knew something was up, and the longer the kitchen was filled with silence, the louder and louder it became, the blush in my cheeks only getting more apparent as it transmuted from pink to crimson, my tail batting against the ground softly in anxiousness like Poe's tell-tale heart, but I just took another sip. "Ok. Tell me what really happened." Suddenly his voice was devoid of its usual eagerness and optimism as he took a couple steps towards me, my head sinking down into my chest as my tail stopped its musings.
"I... don't really wanna talk about it. It didn't go so well." I watched him through locks of hair as he slowly made his way closer and closer towards me as I contemplated actually telling him or not, a build-up forming in the back of my throat as I tried to swallow it back down futilely.
"But I thought you had a good time! Didn't you guys have sex?" His voice got a little bit higher as I could tell he seemed genuinely concerned, putting away his characteristic playfulness for a moment as my feet began to dangle back and forth, my heels clicking against the cupboard doors. At this very moment, I had to admit that it just felt good for there to be someone to care about me and want me to feel better.
"Yeah... we had sex. But that's about all we did." I sort of cringed on the inside as the words just forced themselves out of my mouth, suddenly stricken with embarrassment, knowing that there was no turning back now.
"What does that mean?" He was now standing only a few inches away from me, and with me perched up on the counter we were actually eye level for once with him standing at about six feet even. I could feel his breath teasing through my whiskers; I had never been this close to him before; not like this. It all felt, somehow, intimate, as he stood between my legs, my palms pressed against the marble counter top to keep my sturdy as my nose wiggled from the tickling sensation.
"It means... I dunno." I slid down off the counter and slipped past him towards the fridge, opening up both the doors and pulling out a tub of ice cream and a can of whipped cream, setting them down as I reached up and started fishing through the overhead drawers for a bowl, but as my paw began to retract it from its careful perch I felt his own grasp around my wrist, shunting it. "Hey! What the fuck?"
He just glared at me. I had never seen anything like that before in him in my life; he looked absolutely furious. I loosed an inaudible whimper as I dropped the bowl back into place, taking a step back and leaning against the edge of the counter, unsure of what he was about to do. "What the fuck did that guy do?"
Mike absolutely never swore. This was the first time I had ever heard him curse in all the time I had known him, and it sort of took me back as my ears splayed back flat against my skull in submissive worry. I looked down for a moment and finally conceded, my words starting to crack and buckle around my struggles to not cry in front of him as that familiar weight behind my eyelids began to resurface. "He told me he didn't really love me... He just wanted sex. And he was my first, and I feel used, and I don't know what to do. ...he told me he loved me..." It all just came gushing out, the sentences running into each other as suddenly I was only eager to tell him absolutely everything and as fast as I could as I sniffled a few times, my head hanging in defeat.
"Oh my God, I'll kill 'em. I'm sooo sorry man, that really sucks." The fleeting aggression in his voice had dissipated just as quickly as it had surfaced, suddenly his words filled with an almost indescribable sort of warmth and comfort as he loosed my wrist from his grasp. He knew that I really cared, or thought I really cared, for that son of a bitch, and the more and more I tried to appear strong, the more obvious it became that I was really crushed.
"Hey listen man, forget that guy. He's a prick. I'm sure you'll find someone better." He pressed that big, strong paw against my shoulder, giving it a shake as my whole body wobbled back and forth a bit, making me lose my balance for a moment. "Hey. Look." He grabbed the can of whipped cream and gave it a shake, much to my confusion, before grabbing my snout and generously dousing my nose with a big glob of the sugary stuff, the soft serve cone-shaped pile already starting to slide off. "Whipped cream!"
I couldn't help but grin a bit, using the back of my paw as a tissue as I lapped it off, or at least tried to, as all I did was send most of it to splatter onto the floor. I managed to eek out a fairly pitiful, "Stop it..." but I knew how awkward this probably was for him, so I really appreciated it, and couldn't ethically mind if this was the easiest way for him to confront the situation; it's not like it was his problem, I had to remind myself. "It's just like... I really thought that's what would make me happy, but it didn't. I thought being with someone was going to be so incredible... but now I just feel sort of empty. It wasn't special or romantic or anything like that."
He gave me a fairly patronizing "Aww", before giving me the stereotypical speech. "It is special. You just have to wait for the right person. If I were gay, I would totally tap that, man, and I'm pretty picky!" He grinned, giving my another spritz with the whipped cream, which I defiantly flung away with my fingertips back at him.
"But what if I don't? What if I never find that? I mean... I just want to feel that "something special" once..." I felt like I was being overly dramatic, but at the moment I just did want some sympathy and attention; I figured I could use it after what had happened last night, but I also felt guilty for pressing the issue on Mikey, who I doubt wanted to be getting into these sort of things. My eyes were still a bit red, but I was starting to feel, just glad that there was somebody to tell as I stared up into his cavernous, blue eyes trepidly, letting my lips curl into a weak smile as they seemed to dissolve me.
He just stood there for a moment, staring straight back into mine, and then looked down at his feet for a moment with that same sort of vulnerability that I had been exhibiting only a couple minutes ago, his paws placing themselves on his hips before his face lifted back up, which was now filled with a curious blush. "Ok." His head nodded once and he was off.
"Ok what?" I replied, suddenly confused, but before I could say anything else Mike was against me, his chest to my chest, his hips to my hips, his crotch to my crotch, one arm wrapped around my torso as his fingers disappeared into thick,white fur between my shoulder blades and the other against my cheek as I just stared up in disbelief as I could feel him breathing against me, gently rising and falling into my body as his warmth permeated every inch of me, my lips opening as my head leaned back a bit, a deep blush filling my face as I tried to reply, but my words came out muted and broken. "Wha.. what are you doing?"
The husky leaned his head down, just smiling as the back of his forefinger affectionately caressed my cheek, his cold, wet nose pressing against mine which made it wiggle, his other paw slowly crawling up the curves of my spine until it was resting against the back of my head, holding it gently but firmly in place as I felt his fingers slip through my hair, the dulled claws scritching against my scalp as he took complete and utter control of my body. "Isn't this what you wanted?" He just smiled, his careful, whispered words flowing through my ears like a euphoric swell of heat as my fur stood on end in his embrace for a moment before re-matting, my bushy tail flicking back and forth behind me in distress and anticipation.
"No, no. But... you're straight. This isn't what you want. Don't do this just for me. Please?" My words were filled with weakness as they trembled past my lips, my eyes darting towards anything and everything except the face unwaveringly staring into mine, part of me desperately wanting escape, but a part of me a bit deeper down wanting it as I could feel my entire body begin to ache for one or the other; I honestly couldn't tell which, the crippling grasp of my paws against the ledge of the counter starting to weaken and wain as they begged to be wrapped around the small of his back, but I resisted.
"I... I don't know if I am any more." This was probably the first time I had ever heard vulnerability in his voice, and I knew that if I had the courage to look up at him his eyes would be darting to comfort just as mine were. "I've actually never had sex." And then there was a long, painful pause, a huff breezing past my face through his nostrils as I felt the heat of devastating anticipation begin to fill my face. "I think I might... well. I mean, I like you. ...Like that." I had no idea what to say; all I could do was close my eyes. I knew what he wanted to say, but I was sort of glad he didn't say it because I was probably too nervous to say it back.
"Besides," he chirped, his voice regaining its aloof playfulness, trying to make the situation a bit easier on the both of us. "I just want a kiss. Ok? Then we can see what happens. But I want to make you feel special." I thought for a moment and tried to respond, but it just seemed like anything I could possibly say would be absolutely inadequate; he left himself bare and prone to me, gave up any shred of dignity, and I wasn't going to let him do it in vain. I simply nodded and finally released my grasp on the marble slab, sheepishly letting my trembling paws rest against his hips, looking up into his eyes and letting myself become lost in the blue abyss.
The feeling was indescribable; if one could put Liszt or Rachmaninov into an emotion, this was it, only somehow, unfathomably bigger. I just gave up everything, stopped thinking and just let it happen; both of us did. All of the petty emotions like nervousness, ego or pride evaporated in a palpable steam. In this moment, there was nothing else in the world but us. There was no me and there was no him. There was simply the embrace; it was sweet, delicate... but it was also an eruption, the epiphany I had always thought this moment should be; the kind of thing you read in a cheesy romance novel but think doesn't really exist, but it did!
Our bodies squeezed together and my arms leaped across his body, wrapping around his chest and clinging him against me as I relished in his warmth, his fur entwining with mine as my tail coiled around his right calf, giving him an encouraging wring as his neck craned down, my head swiveling to the side as our lips met, soft folds of velvet interlocking amongst one-another as I cooed, his paw still gripping the back of my head as the other pressed into the small of my back, sealing my fate as I could feel his breath jousting with mine as the room filled with the sounds of nothing other than fur against fur, two racing heartbeats and two escalatingly erratic sets of lungs and they rose and fell against each other.
He went first. His tongue slipped past my lips without argument, the slick appendage gliding along the row of sharp, pearly whites as he left them devoid of the egg-white protein film that coated them, running it along my gum line before I opened my maw, pushing my muzzle deeper down the length of his own as I nearly attacked it, half of my muzzle now entwined with his own longer, canid one as my tongue crept along the length of his own, using it like a compass to find his maw.
It was ichor, my tongue gently coursing through every single groove and crevasse of the warm, damp muzzle as I flicked my tongue across the tip of each, sharp tooth, wanting to explore every single inch of his maw as his own tongue returned the favor, lapping wildly and wickedly against my own as suddenly what were once innocent sounds were replaced by the lewd sonorities of slurping, sucking, panting, whimpering, my paws digging into his fur as if to say that I never wanted him away from me as sweet was replaced by lurid, but it meant just as much.
That was when I felt it; tiny, electric waves of pleasure began to course along the inner walls of my sheath, making it intangibly pulse and tumesce against his own as the throbs beneath his own denim were much less inconspicuous, each one searing its way into my body as suddenly guilt and uncertainty crept back into my head. I reluctantly pulled back, a foggy tendril of saliva still connecting our lips which I quickly licked away, his tongue coiled around mine like a snake, not wanting to let go as the webbing beneath it strained against the suction for a moment before finally managing to free itself.
Emotion and sensation spiraled like a diving helix: out of control, dazing, uncompromising fervor. But it was too much. "I'm sorry..." I didn't really know what I was sorry about, but I just felt so ashamed for feeling lust so unabashedly towards him. It somehow still felt wrong, no matter what he said to try to convince me otherwise; we were best friends, and until a couple of minutes ago I thought he was straight.
"Sorry about what? This?" I winced as his paw was suddenly clinging to the outline of my sheath through an ever-thinning veil of pants as, despite my best efforts, the swelling hidden inside it persisted, and as I felt his hand eagerly wrap around the thick slab of mink crotch my back arched towards the cupboards behind me, sharping gasping as I sucked in air through my front row of teeth. "Oh wow. That's fucking ridiculous!" If there was anything that I didn't like about my body it was the thing he was holding onto, his fingertips starting to kneed into the flesh as I could feel the satiny insides of my sheath being dragged along the thick shaft. It wasn't just big; it was obscene, and come to think of it, he had never seen me naked before, so there really wasn't any way for him to know.
"I know... It's a mink thing. I'm sorry..." There it was again, apologizing for no real reason, but I just didn't know what else to say.
"Ha... no. It's cute!" My head sank back down as my paws fidgeted against his own until I managed to pry his grip away from me, the pulsations now visible even through the heavy denim of my jeans as my knees buckled slightly. It was one thing to play with yourself, but somehow his touch was a thousand times better, no matter how comparatively benign it was. He didn't seem disappointed in the least as I managed to extricate myself from his grasp, just grabbing the can of whipped cream and giving it another shake before dousing my nipples, but before I could protest to whatever it was he had in mind he explained exactly what the situation was.
"Ok tripod." He took a few steps back, whipped cream still in hand. "I want you to show me. If you don't, I'm going to wrestle you to the ground and lick whipped cream off of every single inch of your body until you break through your pants anyway." He grinned wryly, with that sort of smile you get when you think of something particularly devious and get to watch the captive squirm, although if there was anyone I wouldn't mind squirming for, it was him. A few moments passed without any strip-teases being performed, which was followed by the husky starting to bounce on his toes while parroting, "coo-oool whiiip!"
For something so ridiculously silly it was surprisingly menacing, and the harder my dick got the more fun his "punishment" sounded, but again, he instantly disarmed me and there was nothing I could do but give him what he wanted. "Ok. Just don't freak out. It's not exactly monstrous, but it's big. And... special. You'll see." I knew a lot of people liked it, but I was really bashful about it, and it was also sort of useless, so it was only lucky that I preferred to be on the receiving end of things.
He leaned back against the stove as I giggled, taking a dollop of the slowly descending confection onto the pad of my finger and licking it clean before proceeding, my paw slowly reaching down to the crotch of my pants as the button nearly burst off the waist of the pants, having to use both paws to get it unfastened due to the increasing strain put against it. "I'm not wearing any underwear, so if you have any fives you can just put them towards the pizza."
"Psshh... I think I have some quarters in the car." I grinned, the claws of my forefinger and thumb meeting one-another between the tiny hole on the silver tab, that unmistakable 'silch' of teeth metal teeth being unfastened from each other almost seeming to echo as I just looked away, wanting to make it into a bit of a show but deciding to take the band-aid approach, tugging it all the way down in a matter of a second or so as suddenly my entire sheath plopped out of its confines.
"So... what do you think?"
"I think you should see a doctor. You have an extra leg." I smirked, not quite sure what he truly thought about it yet, but there it was. The sheath extended from all the way down to where the zipper ended, all the way up to where the waist band used to be, a massive, ankle-thick slab of flesh attached precariously to my otherwise-tiny body as the fur along the top was absolutely matted with precum, new beads forming at the precipice and glistening in the florescent lightning above us for a few moments before they were rudely smeared into the fur on my stomach, just letting it happen, the monolithic member peaking out of its fuzzy confines to make its grand entrance.
"Oh Jesus. I could watch this all day!" His response only seemed to encourage the beast, as not red or pink but solid ebony cock crawled further and further up along my body, leaving a lurid trail of obscenity along the front of my body as more and more crept out until there finally wasn't anything left, nearly fourteen inches of glistening, onyx shaft came crashing down from its vertical state into a more horizontal one as I gasped out, my knees knocking against each other and my paws gripping for dear life against the refrigerator door handle as an unholy rope of precum spat its way across the kitchen. It wasn't even so much of a spurt as a thick, flailing stream that acrobatically flung its way between the husky's legs and audibly splattered against the ground.
"Yeah... I warned you. So, what do you think?" My left paw reached down and gripped the base, slowly stroking up and down about a third of its length, just trying to keep it happy but not much more as my other paw slid my pants down the rest of the way, revealing a white, fluffy sac proportionate to the thing that was making all the mess, letting the jeans drop to my ankles before carelessly kicking them away.
"I think I just drowned my pants. I need a moment to recuperate!" He grinned, and in a flash his shirt was floating to the ground like a piece of parchment in the wind, revealing that body that made me drool in more places than one, and without any sort of cue or witty repartee the pants followed suit, which were around his ankles so fast I barely even noticed them move. What I was left with was the most beautiful husky in the world, standing in my kitchen, in nothing but a pair of tented and pre-stained briefs, and in the matter of another moment I was in his arms.
The whipped cream rolled across the floor as I was sent topping down into it, letting out a meek "eep" as his paws wrapped around my wrists and held them above my head, our weight and height differences making the submission fairly easy as I gave a few, testing strains against the ersatz bondage and finding it satisfactorily immobilizing, just staring up at him as I seemed to find myself doing quite a bit all of a sudden, huffing each time the soft wisps of his coat grazed along the head of my cock, which was suddenly sandwiched between our bodies as he laid down against me.
His neck dipped down as I felt his lips press against my throat, my head throwing back into the floor as much as possible as my entire body arched and gyrated into him, loosing a steady, musky rivulet of ooze into our fur as the room slowly began to smell more and more of raunch until the air was nearly unbreathable, weighing down my lungs with each inhalation as the oppressive reek and wretch of pure, carnal, animal fuck drenched the air in saturated condensation, feeling his paws fumble between my thighs until I felt something burning my cheeks, looking down at his own fairly impressive member, a deep shade of red highlighted by purplish veins marking the knotted tool as unmistakably canine.
He began to tenderly kiss along the delicate lines and curves of my prone throat, his hot breath teasing through the fur as sharp teeth delicately grazed the skin beneath, making my hips dance against his taut stomach. "Are you ready?" He asked between teasing lashes of his tongue. My legs spread and my knees raised. It was the only answer I thought he needed, and apparently I was right as he managed to quickly find the tiny, pink button, pressing the pointed tip against me as he simply let himself drool his slick, natural lubrication against my tailhole, wetting it with warmth as every inch of my body began to burn for him.
I yelped out in pain as that first inch or slow slipped in, whimpering and scooting back a bit as it slid right back out. "I'm sorry..." The truth was, after last night, there was just no way I was going to be able to do this. The fact that the husky was considerably bigger made it all the more impossible, and I thought I was going to cry for a moment there. "I think I'm too sore... I thought I wasn't but I am. I am SO sorry!"
But Mikey just grinned, his paws releasing me from my temporary prison as he gently brushed my cheek, which I was only eager to nuzzle with all the affection there was in me. "Don't worry sweetie. There are other ways." He slid up my body, making the head of my cock grind through nearly every inch of his body, and even against his own until his sac was spread across my rod, then watched as he slowly and almost ceremonially lifted himself up to his knees. I eyed him with incredulousness as he reached behind his back and gripped my shaft, pointing it upwards.
"You're kidding, right?" This elicited an investigatory grope, and as best as I could assume, when he realized his fingertips weren't touching his thumb he knew that wasn't going to work either. But he seemed unphased yet again, just sliding off of me and rolling over onto his side, laying next to me as he wrapped an arm around my ribs and tugged me towards him, resting my head on top of his chest as my own arm flung across his body, squeezing him tightly against me.
He scooped up a pawful of the mess that had been spilled between us and wiped it across my face teasingly, which caused my tongue to instinctively lap at my nose, although it was certainly a smell that I didn't mind. He just smirked and accused me of being selfish for not being a pillow for him to, to which I replied by slipping my arm under his head, enjoying the feeling of his chest rising and falling beneath me, listening to his heartbeat soften.
It wasn't particularly comfortable, but we just laid there for hours. We never said a word; everything that we wanted to say or that needed to be said was articulated more eloquently than any words could in that long, warm silence, the occasional, feathery kisses we traded against the other's cheek and shoulders acting as exclamation marks as my fingers etched little designs in his fur idly, our paws occasionally finding each others' as we delicately entwined our fingers, playing them up and down and in between, the tiniest little things now the only things that mattered there, on the kitchen floor, together.
It was so slow, so eternal, yet as the warm, earthy tones of day were slowly smoked by the deep, cool hues of night it began to feel like a race against the dark, knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that eventually, this impossible dream would have to end, and that the surreal would slowly drip away, but I just clung to him, as if he could protect me from that ever happening.
Finally, he said something. It was almost nine, and it was time for him to head home. "So, was it special enough for you?"
"I lo-" But he cut me off, pressing a finger against my lips and responding with a condoling "shhh". I blushed, just giving him the slightest of nods, wanting to scream it out, but willing to do anything for him in this moment.
"I know. ...I think do too. Just don't say it yet." He sighed, and I knew I wasn't going to like what was about to come out of his mouth as he kissed the slope of my snout. "Let's just know for now, ok? I'm not quite ready to be... gay, you know? I just need a little bit of time. But don't forget. And when the time comes, I'll say it to you, and we can feel like this all over again."
I made the biggest, most stupid grin that could possibly fit on my face, every single part of my body swelling with a climactic apex of bliss, hearing those words, if not put the way I expected, that I had always wanted to hear but always knew I wouldn't; it was real now, and it was even better than I imagined. "This is what it should be like," I thought to myself, even as he finally rose off the floor, stretching out a few aches from the fairly precarious position as I did the same, just laying there with my paws resting beneath my head.
"Don't forget." It was the last thing he said as he scooped up his clothes and stumbled around a bit as he slipped them back on, turning around to blow me one last kiss before heading out the door. The truth was, the husky knew it might be years before he could come to terms with it, and in reality, this... whatever it was... just couldn't survive like that for that long. But he let the mink have his fantasy, and let himself indulge in it as well.
Maybe it was worth it.