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_ Fox McPlowed _ by Eightane for Spelunker Sal ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fog was a tad overdone, in his opinion. He'd call the rest solid for an opening night. His eyes scanned the floor, dancing over the dancers... Whichever DJ they'd booked was on fire, as many stare-worthy bodies responded, their light, oft-skimpy clothing in gyrations, or their neighbour's welcome hands. Several caught his eye, for better or worse, comely or astonishing; ten-flat minutes in this place and no sign of inhibitions. Cognac and brews washed down the chat and pickup lines... A rhino put his pec-bulged fishnet to a sensual roll, borrowing a weasel twink's stepping space. He couldn't stay glued to the bar, and in good sense he didn't plan it. The comfort level enticed, though: fine Katinan marble, mauve-stained and so refined it was nearly soft, to his elbows and the amber-yellow tail emerging from his pants to flick the sidewall. Swift lashes for the partition holding he and his cocktail; they were eager, yes, but partially alert. He saw every male who glanced back, the canids, avians, other fox like himself. Such difference, a beckoning lot. His concern was how many simply liked what they saw, but how many more so easily identified him. He had no faith he'd sink into this club incognito; it took more than tight cargo's and a sheer green tee to undo a face.

He wrapped a fist on his glass; another healthy sip of gin through cracks between the ice, to his tongue, down his gob. It quenched a literal thirst, and the other type wouldn't dodge him for long in here. Corneria's newest spot for those such as him... Men who held a nine-to-five, or worked more crucial labour, or if a few even shared his career, the planethopping burden of mercenaries. If they wanted the same, sought his same bend and release, all would fit within these walls, strobelit and now boxing cologne and pleasure's sweat. If they hid it less than he, all the better. Though many were blessed not to need...

... He squashed the notion, leaning up to stand. Music bumped, revellers took to grinding... Fox knew his pair of options. Enter the fray and lose himself, or duck out somewhere choice, the haven for what floorgoers only mimed. His tongue swiped low fur around his lips; alcohol's traces were swallowed, a move he meant to repeat. If not for his stop at two doubles, he might need the restroom... But now, just instinct, the buzz and a rich past moved his boots. Sleeker, more lightweight than for piloting, they carried his manful grace past the barcorner, a few tables in series, ten or so patrons. Two had jaws wide as he passed, a tiger in tank-top and raccoon in checkered polo at separate groups; their smiles of awe confirmed his celebrity. One other, a buck in more silver chains than he'd seen on a single neck, simply locked eyes below his belt and followed that. He peered back, smiling narrow, inviting.

The buck's chin stayed by his table, then swung away from Fox; looming close to the buff gorilla one seat over showed neither came alone. They whispered, surely about him. Fox stayed in motion; his raised eyebrow, unseen shrug, led into his hand's raise and push on the swinging door.

He encountered air with light citrus; the tilework and stalls would never be cleaner. None stood at the sinks; two of the five doors had feet beneath, two pairs in both cases, renewing his grin. A sigh blew through his cheekfur as he walked; straight off, he'd be checking just how moded the details of this hangout. Svelte, strong fingers wrapped the door handle; pulling open, he peered down next to the john. It was true, and his teeth shone approval; a hole, rounded and with proper size for any there to give.

He stepped heartily in, latched the door, met his hand with his zipper; a slower, waffling breath escaped both lips and his black-tipped nose. A portion of fun was in the wait; sitting, perching his toned rear on the lid, listening on lovebirds either side of him. By his right, slow 'tonk's in time with gulped panting, domination's calling card... Leftward, hearty hums meant a couple got a jump on his agenda here. They spurred chuckles, and arousal; he parted the zipper to reach through, straight past his lack of underwear. Chubbed up, and in his clutching it, taking gentle first strokes to its uncut berth, it pushed towards full-mast. His ears pricked; either side, low sighs and the occasional yelped whine were telling. Logic spoke what they did; experience recalled how it felt. His maw lay open, liquid pooling by frontmost teeth... He looked down, watched the rise of his uncut bone through the pantflaps, toyed with the foreskin capping it. Envisioning the moves, the stiff pride that would push down his throat, sling force up his ass... Amid his 20's, either one took intrusion like Venom's day was long.

Two fingers lay on his pipe's hood, petting, massaging, having him wince for what he did to himself. Inwardly, he ached to give a willing stranger the honours... Of his bliss, the pent ammo, his crave. He would kneel for who'd enter that cubicle; fulfill them, as his talent never failed, sate the hunger that nagged him through the long, starlit voyages in bleak expanse of nothing. He tugged it, six-and-change inches of fox wood; he would suck the pressure, the glory right out from them. Might even be ejected for stirring such a ruckus, and if so, off to a hotel with a new suitor, one night's plug for his throat and tight tailcave, one reprieve from his yearning 'til the next mission, his next chase of a paycheck.

Abs bulged and contracted in his shirt; pulling pud in the cockpit never served him like this. Already it was strong, throbbing from his root, stone-hard and twitching his nuts in the hope. A few minutes stroking, legs wide and in sway, before the shadow fell outside, guiding past his stall for the next one. His heart fluttered; the shoes were heavy to his well-attuned ears, maybe large, heading straight for where the hole connected. Fox edged over on his 'seat', fixed his posture, restrained a murr in his throat; mutely begged this would be his hot ticket. The stall was occupied; he heard a belt buckle, sweetly clanging, growing sweeter when he noticed its rise. Before it unclasped, the hole was made black; a rippling heat tore through his body as he watched the straps fall either side, like curtains revealing dark jeans and their bulge.

The stranger's shade robbed sight of colour; the hand that lifted on the other side - rubbing that mound, teasing, lifting to recoil it in bounces - was maybe indigo, or jade, or something else cool and deep. Sure he picked out the wisps on each knuckle; and when the hand reached the zipper, exposing that within as he'd done for himself, a streak of feathers joined it by the junction. The base of something long, curved, loosely-cut to bring the tall, gorgeous head to shadowed view. Fox went tight, clenching stem-to-stern, flogging the commode tank with a spazzed tail, unable to stop a moan. That gun was twice-picked up in the hand of its owner, dropped to air-dribble its hang, and directly, smoothly shoved through the day-old hole. Even stiff, it pointed low as it draped, veins so large by the center. It had a mere two seconds for this, by a quick, strong chuckle from the stranger; then Fox's tongue rolled to its underside. His own pipe pulsed in every tug; his lips curled over the male's tip, and two brilliant green eyes shut to focus the taste, the feel down his gums, as lust poured upon its length.

If the stranger groaned, it passed him; the only sense he knew was taste. Skin, the hide of this turgid meal, slipped down his tongue; so fucking rich with salt and a musk that claimed every inch, whether smooth at the end or hilled up with vessels pumping. His brow scrunched in need; few tubesteaks were the same, but not one equaled those that spilled from denim; like the fabric spent all day smoking a tended roast. He bent in; his legs and core placed him by the hole, empowering his plunge, slinking up that level tool, just slow enough to savour the muzzleful. Groans were indeed given and broke through his focus; droning in a bass so pure, they could only source from a male. He whimpered on the fact, mouthing, suckling seven inches, exploring them, nursing the needs of another man. His knees would not be still; neither would his toes, softly scratching his bootends. One hand rest on the wall, planted on the cubicle; it steadied him to the chin, now nudging below the hole while he throated to the base, quills tickling each corner of his maw. His throat bade swallow after swallow; the stranger's pre had begun, and it couldn't be enough. He picked out a word or two, then more; the man who fed him didn't worry for discretion. "Down it... Nnmf... Nngh... Yehhhh... Work... "

Fox strove not to yelp, muffled either way. His hand looped his open fly, loving his fat rod, spreading its clearleak, charging throbs hard as the faceless dick he pulled deeper in his gob. Scent met the flavour, where Fox took in the mix, turning passion to flame. He lipped solid manhood, severely long and winning whispered heat from his feeder. The voice... So lush, low and smug, somehow familiar... He knew it must be history, how many nights he'd drawn echoes from anonymous doms, emptied their rock-hard horns of manflesh. The owner retreated, just to ram it back through; their wall bowed out for an instant, then another, as length invaded him so far it shoved beyond his tongue. The gags were all it took; a whine bottled in his neck, and he all-but-melted down off the lid, dropped both knees to the tile, tamed by greed. The other pairings, their huffs and mewls in the backround, enlivened him; he'd be armed with knowing his mark stood luckiest, unknown and given the room's best.

His jerk was furied. Trails oozed down his foreskin, his fingers, the clasp at his zipper's base. His ass lay tight enough to crimp metal; so too did his lips clench on that member, hugging, plunging, slinking tongue up and around. He popped from its head to turn and run up the side. Throbs kept it jumping while his mouth drove to the root, pressing to the wall; fur by his lips raced through the coarse quills, a bird's crotchring. He returned to the head, taking in with purest want yet. Switching back, lipping more, then suction; and his dom well-knew when to nudge and speed it into him. Push was steady, just right for the hole betwixt them... He couldn't know who leaked more, himself or the bastard ramming him to the gullet. He could even wonder which was better, the pulse in-hand or that he tended for his peer, while praise sent to his ears.

"FFF-fuck... On the way... Plunge, boy... This nut has yerr name..."

Grunts followed, throwing wood on his fire. He made noise enough for both, his hand's rustling the parted fly, swelling his dick. Chuckles rose from the other stalls; one was opened, and the occupants were heard piling out. The wall went wet in two places: by Fox's crotch, thrusting up to the smooth cold through his paw's heat, and on the cusp of the hole, his drool, the man's pre, both raining from his chops, the slobbing work of a manwhore. His ears pinned back; so aroused, so fucking subordinate. All he knew of the stranger was length, taste, the smell given through his jeans, a few feathers and felicity in this avian's orders. So hard in his mouth; so close to the goal, as he knew, taking jabs, gulping manlube, tempering the choke. He would feel that lucky mark shoot like hell; from where he stood - or knelt - the job was his alone. He winced; a few dives were so hungry his cheeks nudged the wall, and his brow with them. The long blue member shoved in his throat... It surged... He hummed, wishing he could wail, and the man tore into bellows, so fervid and careless.

"SHIIIIIIT, OHHFUUCK!! TAKEIT, UNNGH!! UNNN-H-HELLYEHH!!! "

The wall took a beating... His hips pounded steel, his pipe Fox's jaw, as it tossed ropes of white, flooding gums, streaking lines on the amber fur. Fox went his hardest, in his hand and on the throb of that gun shooting mouthfuls of jizz, thick and hot. He practically trembled; sweat wicked down the center of his tee, where lean muscle fenced the loads he gulped down. He couldn't quit his murrs any more than his aggressor could stop the seed, growling in how strong he came. Every round of white was fired, from the big head of a bigger schlong to his tongue or squirting trails down a chin. Each word sweetened from the last.

"GAHD-DAMN!!... UNGH, DRINK BITCH!... SPUNKHO'... FILL THAT FOX GUT..."

Fox lay so close to shooting off... Until the last of that meat owner's climax wormed its way through his brain. He analyzed, on his knees and downing the last creamshots... What had been seen of him? Nothing. And what did he know, but the meat, the feathers in those jeans... The voice, he'd half-suspected he knew...

... He pulled back. The large, spent shaft fell from his lips, straight but starting a droop through the unsupportive hole. It dangled, and his self-pleasure ground to a halt, hand frozen. His neck sprouted goosebumps. "W-... Wait, you-... Falco? "

For the time it took to breathe, no reply, just the dick sliding out from his side. Then he launched back, scooting; a fist had rapped the wall quick and playful. "Fun's over, then." Fox heard the zipper, saw nothing through the newly-fouled hole. Then, sounds of a door latch, sure to be Falco's as the bird went brashly on. "Alright, stand your ass up."

He didn't need to be asked, though thrown off and gasping; Fox held up his pants, nimbly buttoning as he found his feet. His shirt, its moisture, kept his ears lightly pinned as he faced the door, cracked his neck and swung it open.

The bird faced him, straight and checking a laugh. A black tank top left arms in view, lean-sculpted as his; the denim jeans, purple and swamped by the fly. From three inches above his leader's brow, Falco's sky-blue eyes were tickled pink. He leaned into the stall, holding both walltops. "Always knew you're a whore."

"And you'd care to notice." A rebuttal... It exceeded Fox's thoughtspeed, a reflex in the moment.

A slow, deliberate nearing to each other; drawn in, still high on the act, but startled. Fox, moreso of the two, took liberties with sight; Falco's legwear wrapped his package so snug, one might wonder if a toothpick fit between them. Or as Fox visualized, a finger...

"Not so bad out of a flight suit, eh." Falco mugged, a major push in his breath. "Still tight. You see why."

"I..." Fox, though composed, had his jaw sputter air.

"Hey," the falcon spouted. One arm went to backslap Fox, a firm clap. "Talk to me."

His lead-turned-sucker chuckled; his guts knew the irony before his mind. "It's flooring... I mean you're here..." He lingered on the bird's chest, intangible in black but framed by the cut of the fabric. "... Shit, I'm speechless."

Falco's other arm came down; adjusting waisthang of his jeans, then himself in them. "Like me, two days ago." Closing in, he saw the change in Fox's gaze, shocked again. He wasted no time setting a palm on Fox's side, around his lower-back. "Yeah, you know already. Next time you look up directions, don't write 'em out by your desk. I found this place quicker than you did."

Fox received the bird's other arm. His eyes could only lower, relax as it scooped the other side; allowing Falco to swipe, arc down and lay a hold on his ass, stronger every breath. "And guessed where to find me." Hardly passive, he tilted head into Falco's, chopped their distance to nil with the first taste of his ally's lips.

Falco took with care on his beak; his tongue paid a grateful want, exploring the gums he'd washed so well. Still it was brief; in his way, he knew when he wanted to talk. "Please, I watched you lay on the bar, suckin' rim on that glass." Their foreheads linked. "Maybe a rock won't know where you'd go, but me..."

All had left their lips muttering, by what stayed of their knowing they were known. Before Fox stole a second kiss, the remaining strangers stepped out. Tiny whispers gave way to a 'WOOOO ' from one, the short possum with pep in his feet, breaking his chub mole conquest into giggle.

They kept walking; Falco's bark hit their exit. "Go yakkin' about us and we test guns on your mailbox!"

He focused back ahead; his eyes adjusted in time for the vivid green of Fox's to strike him. "Now I get the aggression." His hips, tingling like all else on him, nudged Falco's; the awe and their kinship be damned, what he felt and saw took priority. "There's other ways to work that. Agreed?"

His hands rose, attached to Falco as was done to him. They slid on each other, moved for the longest kiss, bunched on one another's crotch, grinding. Somehow, their wits and keen sense kept the low exchange going. Two fox lips left his wingman's, only to jab him. "I don't care what's good right now, you have years of shutting up to account for."

Falco's hand was gunning straight for the crack under a foxtail. Fingers learned it better than his eyes in the past. "What, the signs you put off? Or when you jump in your Arwing and I'm fixed like a hawk." He enriched his tone with Fox's tight, male ass twitching for pleasure. He proceeded, watching that mouth go wide and weaker. "Didn't worry. No hero sees out the back of their head."

"Good... For you..." His comeback was reduced; Falco's touch found his hole through the stitching. A wobble sent up his legs.

"You suck pipe like a hero..."

Falco's one phrase met them mind and body. Fox slammed his pilot into the wall, wrapped their tongues and mouths tighter than their arms, his one hand sliding through to the man's sack; sudden acts dislodged any doubt, sent away what they'd been before. First pilots, friends, now more if for little else than knowing, their nature and base will to share. Clothed, amazed, but shelling passion like breaking a dam. Fox's mind went but one way: 'Such a long time... Not just me...'

Yellow fur dove under Falco's tank, stroking the feathers. Fox breathed gin on a beaked maw, had it sample the 'bite' with an overlay of cream, his own. Their steam outlined a print on the cubicle, Falco's, held by his leader's longing. Neither man was subordinate; the tall avian took it, while delighting in a shove, testing how deep his thumb could push Fox's cargo's up his cave. The vulpid's pitch shook from the outset. "Y-you wanna shut this door and really test some guns?"

Falco's swagger only flowed beneath their appetite; once asked, he guffawed, nudged his friend and brought it right back to the surface. "Call me loony, but no. We got commitments." It was out of left field; Fox's neck held slight-back from his partner. "... Say what?"

"Ask me, Einstein..." He pushed into Fox, to combine coming off the wall with a hip's thrust into him. "... If I'd discover you, and just let it slide. We've both earned better." He slid out from in front of Fox; linked their hands, and looked as if he'd soon pull. "C'mon, they're waiting." Slowing up enough to keep from yanking, he tugged Fox out from the stall, and had them strolling at a good clip towards the bar.

They hit the threshold; batted each other's shirts, a practiced cloak of the evidence. The bar began immediately, as did Fox's glare, confused above all. " So d'you tell me who's 'they ' or do I tie you in knots?"

"Hah, you'd love to be able." He walked barely in front of Fox, speaking over music and crowd, the many who saw them and lit up in recognition. "I'm a bastard, your secret died early. Lotta the guys were receptive." They passed the rhino, now seated; his large grey mitt snatched Fox by the tail, stroking through it by their walking. Falco glanced back, nodded to that hind and gave an 'A-OK' gesture. Facing back to Fox, he saw the ire. "Just the ones who should know."

"And you're judge." Miffed but smiling, Fox wasn't blind to where the bird might go with this. "Funny, there's this feeling I'll see them."

Falco flung his finger out a fist, emoting 'Bingo!'. Still walking with his partner, they hit the bar's corner with Falco leaping on his back, an arm slung around his shoulder. "We threw a coming-out party. No need to change, they're all here."

Nothing prior had shocked Fox -or could've - anything like this. He choked out a grunt, nearly tripping.

Falco posed the question knowing its redundancy. "You in? Either way, I'm dragging you."

Despite the warmth on Fox's shoulder, his eyes slitted... A wee snarl unfurled on his jawline. "Step all over my business, and you've still got the nerve to think-"

They flinched together by the blaring beep on Fox's wrist: his communicator, its pulse of orange light signaling a call. Falco settled into half a smirk, slayed by the timing; Fox, pre-startled and with more at stake, watched nervously; it only hurt to swing looks around them and see half the bar keen to their dilemma. Some even leaned in, like the two were actors on-stage instead of men with timely problems. Fox spoke his thought in whisper, unintentional and seeping his alarm. "Shit, Peppy... Right now, you old coot!? "

"Prob'ly lonesome." Falco sneered. "He calls me when he's sick of solitaire and Slippy's jukebox."

"We don't know that..." A thicker sweat went down Fox's temple. "But he can't... If we're seen here..."

The light went on flashing. Fox reached for the button as if fighting a force field, his countenance wrecked. Falco, ever valuable, made a snap decision.

Just as Fox hit it on, a feathered arm hit his chest. Falco's weight rushed both to the floor, swift and with a moderate bump to the bar. They rest under where Fox had sipped, fifteen minutes younger. The screen of pure light flickered, then 'opened', framing two lunkheads in a glow against the marble. To the rabbit, nothing more was seen but them: Falco's falsified poker-face and Fox giving all not to smile, not fully aware the manhandling had inspired. He gulped, felt sweating fade, and joined a blank look to the aging hare. Their link came in 'flat-mode', chosen by Fox... Rather than holograms, where Peppy might turn and see in real time, his face filled a screen fixed to them; Fox breathed relief, sure that marble would evoke nothing dubious.

"Hey Fox, sorry to nag on your free time. I'll make it quick, I know you're at that gentleman's club."

Falco's chuckle nearly left him, where their cover would've blown. It tested further to hear Fox carry the lie. "Yeah, the vixens are out, it's a sea of tail."

Peppy's gaze darted to the left. "... I see Falco found you too. Sharing the honeys, eh?"

The beaked pilot aced his deception, loose and confident. "Y'know how seas are, they fit more than one swimmer."

Fox gave no reaction; he shrewdly posed the query. "Nothing's wrong, is it?"

"Nooo, no." The prunish hands swung in gesture. "We're just fine, Slippy's oiling Rob and I'm mixing a salad. Wanted to ask, can you pick up more salt on your way in? No rush, y'know. Whenever you get back." His slight linger told Fox the same as his bitty smile, curving lips and their wisdom lines.

Falco butted in. "Might be a while. You know, or you remember anyway."

Control kept Fox from elbowing his partner's gut; Falco, whose arm lay out of sight under Fox, latched on the furry thigh and squeezed. Fox's ears went straight up; something else, closer to ground-zero, responded vertically as well.

An ignorant Peppy snickered; it blew through his greying fur. "Don't get too attached, we don't want some nymph takin' either of you."

Fox felt more comfy... He knew the blame rest solely on his wingman, as did every Tom, Dick and Harry who leaned over their seatbacks, spellbound. "Not happening, I fly solo... Well, you know what I mean. Right now, Falco's set up an afterparty with some of them... I'd decline, but I sort of, uh, owe him for a drink." He nearly slipped, knowing Falco's mouth parted and he bunched in his trousers. "You still okay?"

"Long as you return with no rings." Peppy kept alive the gag, no longer serious.

"I'll be bare-knuckled. The sky's unfit for a groom, huh?" He smiled; an urge to flee had been carved out, refilled by the urge to swivel, face the beak of his companion and plant one deep and wet. It waited...

... Peppy's dialogue closed. "That it is. You boys take care, I'll see you." To Fox, his narrowed eyes were the late hour's getting to him.

Falco dopily saluted. "'Til soon, fogey."

The screen vanished, as did lights on Fox's wrist. As it went down, fractured cheers blew through the crowd. Falco motioned his hand to sweep across his neck; the hubbub died fast. As Falco rose, he aided Fox to do the same, his palm lifting the cargo's by their seam below the tailhole. Fox, lightly quivering, stayed rational. "You are so lucky."

They were on their feet; Falco's one-arm hug united them, with a chestbump on his leader. "Smartest thing you've said all year." His eyes dipped; where Fox had sweat in the restroom, a long spot had remained, just now cool on the bird's breast. "So walk along. I've had ages too far from this, and the guys won't care."

Fox's smirk became a grin, teeth bare and white in the strobes. No more need for containment... More cheers would erupt, widespread, when he wrapped his own arm on Falco and showed the bar what two longtime compatriots could do for each other's tongue, lips and mutual goals. The shouts were silent compared with flutters in his chest; Fuck did that bird taste like the vim and vigor he spouted day-to-day, and now the loads in that stall, what he granted their new regard. The boots started off; Falco's, then Fox's, less-than-arm's-length behind, through the route to a 'party' enclave of the business. Once more, the yellow fur of his head would move along a glance of this crowd, wishing well for the rhino, weasel, ape, all others who recognized. He saw their interested mirth as he liked; two heroes sharing a night, a new life and each other. Who'd care if calls were made to every paper on the globe or beyond... He'd deal with it in time, and that time wasn't now. Friends awaited.

In his natural high the gin's buzz was a distant second. Whomever Falco had gathered, he knew their duties were in-kind; merriment, more drinks and many laughs at how goddamn outlandish it'd been laying low through the years. The more they walked, the dimmer the lights, clearly inset for privacy. So many impulses piled on one another; he half-leaped on Falco, more physically charged than the bird had done for him. One set of fingers smacked the bird dead-on his taint; they then stroked the split of legmuscle. "I'll run a tab here for the 'guys '. If we're doing this, we're doing it right."

"How do ya know they'll drink?" Falco mugged, his cheek chucking Fox's.

Very seldom did Fox show so assured; smirking, at ease in his element. "Sure, and how do I know it's my closest pals. I see through you, you've gone out of your way."

The floor became carpet, maroon and black diamonds. Ten feet ahead, double-doors of wood and smoked glass. Falco played up his conduct, still leagues above his buddy's mellowing. "Sounds like you're hot to guess. But oh no, wouldja look at that, already here." Suave as ever; approaching the door, he stood one foot on the other, sort of 'falling' onto the wall, leaned next to the hinges.

Fox never left his gaze; neither did he quit his stare into Falco's deep-blues, reflecting golden glow above, except to grab one handle and pull it ajar. He knew Falco's cue; he'd enter first, so those inside have their 'surprise' party. One phrase left his lips, low and gratifying. "Hell of a night."

The door was opened; the room revealed nothing, dark and still, distracting him in total. From what he assumed, from earlier...

... From Falco's edging up, sifting hand through his own pocket. "Goddamn right."

It shot out; the bird harnessed full speed, throwing a sash on Fox tight over his eyes. Reflex would fail; instincts had dulled too late for Fox to stir them. A knot held to his nape, tied and tightened... Falco's arms found him again, but this time they would wrap and shove. Angled down, Fox was felled like a tree, on all-fours to stop momentum. Falco's form chased him, hooked on his shirt. Senses sharpened; the room was hot, its air separate and cycled. The bird, his blue feathers, plunged in Fox's shirttail, pulled rough toward his head. He heard breathing; his, Falco's, and much, much more.

No words infused the chain of epiphanies; though he guessed himself surrounded, they were mum as his shirt was ripped free, near-literally; wind from its departure only whipped more steamy air in his nostrils, driving with it a gift to steady his lungs, put fearful gasps to an even, wanton pace. Scents from every direction; a mixed bag of man, nothing less nor else. Slowly, he might pick them out in turn; as faint glow leaked through his blindfold, he knew they'd switched on lights, framing him. They must also have stood close; the first scent to emerge was ballsweat, heavy and acrid. If he focused - if he craned his neck, turned those ears out to the circle unseen - he heard pulsing, places other than chests.

Falco advanced with precision; a pal the fox trusted had robbed him of his top, slid his low feathered abs down the yellow spine and latched on those cargo's, molesting the zipper. Fox outcried; in their state, what left him was a caterwaul, confused, angry pleasure in its essence... His dick went so hard, tenting his crotch like he hadn't cum in weeks, not minutes. This was played on, Falco crooning what his 'leader' should hear. "Relax. Or don't, it's the one choice you get."

Fox's bark seemed to fall out each corner of his mouth, barely unsmiling. "What... The fuck have you..."

"You heard him, boy."

Any motion of Fox's, fight or submit, stopped on a dime. He'd presumed any voice might ring a bell; what he didn't expect was the rough, mature brogue of a canine he'd many-times-worked for. Above his brow, obscured eyes and free nose, the nude hound closed in; one hand limp, one on his six-inch gun stroking lubeless friction. Only a foot closer to Fox than all the rest, and still his dumpy, military brawn lay so close he could teabag their plaything. He talked on, and the jowls moved their marbly, seasoned pitch. "For years, we let you give. It's time you take."

He'd rarely thought of Pepper, in privacy; but two sentences were the missing piece to kindle those few times, bring their impulse to light. His mouth felt wetter; as with far below, on that frontward mound's peak. A light breeze by his lips: the General's cock waved, a 'salute' of mute command. Had this not sufficed to force his jaw wide like a jack, the sounds would do; five, maybe six hands, all tending throbs in meat that surrounded him like ambush. He knew little, saw nil, but felt just as the prey they'd made him.

His lip touched the General; so slow, just the point of deepest collagen smack-dab on that dickhole. He moaned, forgot the fading rage; the moist sounds ramped up, fast and fuller. He could grow no more; by a godsend, Falco's manhandling the zipper ended misery, exposing his shaft to air. Turgid, it bounced off bird's hand; the pilot patted it, a backhanded favour to swell it more as his other hand yanked down the waistline. By when Fox's beltloops reached his knees, tail in the air and hole tingling in mind-fueled craze, Pepper's dick was in his lips, sampled, its tip and Fox's tongue in a kiss of their own. He heard the dog's groan, the rasp of good review; and some low 'yeah's too quick to decipher.

Falco, master of ceremonies, fell back on his knees to bring inches past a foxtail. His height, Fox's governed kneel, had his dick nestling soft cheeks; yellow fuzz stood straight as his manhood in goosebumps. Greedy, eyes on Fox's ass and his own dick, he slid up the canyon, pushed on tail's root, gave a tight pucker the friction to remember its emptiness. "God, that's lookin' deep... Better be, when I drop in..." Fox flinched, light and only in bliss; his deep blue pilot thrived on the reactions, each and every firing muscle. He held Fox's manhood tight, spread his fingers on its girth, opened them to skirt his sack and then warm it in the palm of his grip. "Still full... Want it drained, tough, you had a sendoff. Now..." He leaned forth so fast he all-but fell over Fox... The chest-on-back, the rapid thrust Falco's wood did up his rear had him siren a want. The bird talked on. "You'll make six more, hot for another."

Pepper pushed in; his helmet, half-out a shallow foreskin, was taken. "Thaaaat's it... Deeponit, give a dog his due... That's an o-order... Ohhhshit..."

He shuddered, taking worship from a young, primed maw. His belly wobbled, its sleek pot done in by the very man who'd humbled him, now sharing the turn of tides.

"Work that ass..." Falco met him hard and open, more-dominant on Fox than the army hound... He leaned back up, shoved to blush Fox's taint and dunk each word in conviction. "Bump it, like it's fuckin' my rod... Yehhhh..."

Fox supplied, his anal split going pinker, more like the well-sized fucker he twerked on, timed so their hotdogging warmup could spark if any rougher. His dick coursed with more blood than he'd think it held... Falco's hand toured his nuts, rolling them, pulling... Avian's cock had him crazed for a plug, wishing he could know that very second how the bird would feel jizzing up in him. Neither crushed more than the General, his dick coddled in soft lips and tongue; the stubby tail whipped as per his kind. Fox felt a hand on him; the hound seized his forehead, pushed to draw them in. He hit the base; a moan, a shake, was mutual. Those else - as if by one mind - saw the moment to make selves known.

"Gahd, you're studly on your knees..." An accent, surfer-esque in Fox's ears. The greyhound was on-cue to step up, throw an arm on Pepper's shoulder and create a two-dog night. Tight-cut and dense with bush, Bill brought his six-point-eight to the party and to wet lips. Fox whined on Pepper's cock; pined within for his old Academy bro'; passed his tongue between Pepper's dick and the glans which lay poking his lipside.

Bill's average build hid his strength; he lunged into that gob, striking Pepper's bunched skin on the side, inciting a howl like no other. the General pulled out, stood shaking, taken so close with one occurence... Bill's shlong had stolen that mouth, and through what Fox knew of his act, the deepest suction yet was won. Fox took it to the throat, turning, rolling his neck; not just for scalding want, but so the greyhound might see how he'd been missed, each day from graduation. True, the blindfold sharpened senses, amplified the mewls and manstink all around; but he wished so hard to see Bill's face, with a smile or just gaping with pleasure. The wish applied to Falco, even Pepper... How he'd die to see them, stem to stern, their nude forms what must be glistening in sweat he caused.

The bird rubbed his ass like a lamp; what came forth was clear, rolling down Falco's tip, his tall head and shaft, meeting half-raw fox rear. Fox flinched; it felt cool, like aloe on the stripe of red. "Fuuuuck..." Falco slowed himself; the lube he leaked did half his job, soothing Fox, deepening a throb in both their pipes from how it modified contact. He cast eyes up to Bill; the younger dog's gut bowed in from how hard Fox sucked on what he packed. "He does you right, I see it... Ever thought he's this much of a dickbag? "

"Man... I knew..." Bill shot back, recalling years in reply, tiny breaths while his cock thrummed ecstacy.

Next in Fox's ears were the breathy laughs; snarling, less 'above' him than before. He couldn't guess who; directly, a warm prod hit his chest, under dampening fur. It slid on, revealing shape... Pointed, even ridged to a degree. He flashed back to when last he'd heard that snarl; Dino planet, its short warriors. Could it be... Falco got his hands on a SharpClaw...

As if Falco sensed his inner bearing, the pilot lent it words. "Yeah, I was tardy. What a place... Their underground bars..."

... The saurian's hand clutched Fox's tail, while another put its three-digit print on his spine. The ribs on meat newly raked him chest to abs, using their valley; the curve in those fingers moved a slimy affection up his tail. "He nice and soft... Like fairy, with stick at legs..." For little longer did the SharpClaw's green mitt stroke his tail; it moved down, caressed his thigh, gently sank a hold on his thick wood, by now spotting carpet with pre. A herp's tongue lolled; through his fangs, he breathed bliss, tugging fox dick and fucking the divets of that fuzzed, suspended front. Fox stretched out, slimming himself; the dino's rub enhanced for them both. He wanted anything, all they'd do to him; drooling over two cocks, the dogs taking turns in his maw. He drank in the taste; edged into Falco's buttslide; crushed back laughs for the dino's task, its tickle, and the pieced English. "You tight all under... We use up, you love it..."

"Listen my brother."

Three simple words in a tone Fox didn't recognize. At once his mouth was empty; Bill and Pepper dealt yelps, a toe-curling bliss Fox hadn't gave them. Sightless, he couldn't know the tall, dark-scaled native whose seven-plus swung stiff and yet pliable enough to rub over both canids together. A double frot, with their muzzles and his reptile mouth slack, before he left them to grace the mammal tongue which starved for refilling. His smile was wise; knowing the fox who'd beaten him in strength, before his whole village, now down and subordinate to the rod he slid across that face. It rode over Fox's nose, he whined; it pushed up his cheek, he made the gut-warbling of a true bitch. Then, from the native LightFoot's loins, it settled on his lips, hiding them sidewise; they opened, took it sloppily and played him like a harmonica.

Falco palmed his back; a respect infused his slide up that spine, fingers-on-column, making wobbles in the tight ass he so wished to defile. If he only could... Under breath, he cursed himself, the promise he'd made. For cause of it, he would do no more than what his swollen glans now went to, resting at the hole, Fox's red carpet. Poking... Tip-dipping Fox to caterwauls and randy whining plea. Even testing the limit was torture, knowing how simple to sink in and drill hard, if only.

The 'cause' to whom he'd sworn now stirred from his backroom pose, moved through aisles of stacked chairs, two partners on his heels; the arms were crossed, proud; his single open eye flashed delight for the beefy native's owning that mouth. Bill and Pepper hooked an arm on each other; now and then, they'd energize the LightFoot, smack his cock's exposed side with theirs, send shockwaves straight to Fox's gums; every act grew his lust, sped his slurping and humming on that dick, until the 'cause' saw all the proof he'd need.

He was just one more silhouette to eclipse Fox, darken his blinder; the breath, through ego's grin, came in fixed regulation. His men - the pair who stood gulping air, less hiding their impatience - took either shoulder. Newcomer's meat had the LightFoot rattle gladly; though idle, doing no more than menacing their mark's head and posture, that extension was a focus magnet. Pepper gasped; Falco smiled with eyes aglow, in groan and rapid tease of Fox's hole; the SharpClaw's tongue made laps around his mouth, wet as every one of their tips.

Around the grin, attached to nine thick inches of potency, grey fur ruffled on caramel words. "Overdue... Yet I've known it would come to me."

Fox's maw shot open, repelling the native... Yellow ears flicked like even they disbelieved. Falco was mindful to fall, dip and grab Fox's legs; he'd just barely won the moment when those calves went thrashing. The dogs, the LightFoot, just retreated to a merciless stroke, the dino on himself, Bill and Pepper on each other. The SharpClaw, of agile and warring stock, reached over the foxchest and held his front safe as Falco had his hindlimbs. For all the strength holding Fox to a kneel, his body and snarl were electrified; to restrain him was a chore for either male. The game was changed; they fought the passion and adrenaline of hate. Wolf O' Donnel bent down on one knee, posing his fatless gym build; amused, enticed by Fox's nose and chin whipping all directions, he extended a finger. "I see a futile burn. Calm that, now, your weakness is showing..."

Fox refused it; the rage, dripping spit from gnashed teeth, would not shrink. Still, as the finger tapped his chin, a wolven claw on a vulnerable target, it had a power to concentrate, distill the rage in its place. Fox quit thrashing; his breath, his fangs, kept loudly present.

"Better... Though such spirit, it flatters. You'd eat from my hand in other lives... You may still." His finger swept out; down the hot yellow chin, smooth neck, past curves of a collar; coldly obtrusive, but in sweeps to reveal inner motive. Fox's legs kicked against Falco, but the toes softly bent; his growls would go to end in whining upturns. Bill, fondling the General and enjoyed by that elder, worked hardest not to yelp out approval; to see his buddy's self-battling, and hear Wolf embetter it. "Tell me, McCloud... Young, thin, exposed for all you are... What fills the mind? " Instinct clung within Fox; his head swung as far from the unwelcome as a dino's grip allowed. "You'll... Never... Have me..." The hatred oozed, as did something else; his tool's pulse undermined all higher thoughts.

"So typical." Wolf's headshake drew subtle, cruel intent. "We'll try this again..." With the LightFoot retreated, he freely took that place; hard as stone, he put a hair's width from Fox's nose to his parcel. All Fox would smell was the funk of his nemesis; feel the hand, the warm touch from a blackened heart up his shoulder. He jumped, as Wolf reached reddened flesh from the SharpClaw's liberties; his lungs tightened, then his ass, with Falco's breath on his hole. From the bird's breath, to his tongue, coaxing his ring to open, circling, pulsing the entry, working it to 'give'. The rim, with Wolf's mitt going topside, holding his nape as firm and sure as Falco his legs, did its magic; years of ire, seething grudges were silenced. His thrash, his violence, canned themselves before Wolf's other hand even graced his blindfold.

"... Ahh, you crumble from the hole. Then how easy to break you-"

The five fingers rumpling his blindfold threw it up. Two seconds passed with full-blur; his eyes adjusted, objects focused; the closest of all was the clincher. Fox's brow unscrunched. His ass seized, and Falco's eyes went wide as it trapped his tongue a moment. It let go, he shot back, and learned just why Fox had froze stiff.

What was superior, could Fox even have a clue... The toothy bust of a born fighter, half-scarred... The chest, the abs, so shapely-firm they looked to withstand a cannon's fire... Tiny sprigs of longer fur by his navel, the silver trailing down, bunched at a tower, horizontal but right for two hands and then some. So the smell was given a sight; and Wolf's hum, the steady note of his endosement, wracked a fox's hide with cold sweat like the chill in his dominance infected. On his left shoulder, the scales of Leon Powalski, trusted chameleon and a pilot of Wolf's, eyeing prey with averess... On his right, the soft black fur and gorgeous cheekbones of Panther Caruso, licking chops and pushing whiskers in turn, his golden eyes engaging.

Falco dove, tongued that hole, breathed musk, as his leader bowed back into him... Gentle, as unhostile as the light in Fox's eyes, so wanton in their trace of Wolf's manhood. When the bane of his past spoke, he was there to glance up, the black patch front-and-center on his first look of tribute. There'd be no lull; Wolf spoke over their toy's tongue, pressing so light on his length. "-It... Ohh-hfuck, it wants you... And it destroys what it wants."

He lurched hips, dragged on Fox every inch, veinbulges, deep-set foreskin... Fox moaned with its endsock snagging him, and Falco's tongue hot at work before a pullout. The one beak in the crowd bolted up; his leader beckoned him to renew the tipfuck, keep Fox prime and his own mushroom draining pre. Pepper and Bill leaned to each other, coronas rubbing, as LightFoot self-polished, a trio in stupor for the action; The SharpClaw seemed to sink up Fox's shoulder, clearly smitten with the downy fur-on-muscle. He pleasured more on a bitch's abs, and never had the club's back seen submission like that from Fox's eye up to grisly well-hung foes.

Panther's first phrase would channel awe, his calm Latin verve inside of each note. "Your mouth, he is deep..." Stepping out from his leader, the feline build shaped well its spindliness; skinny, but limber in the ways that would guide that eight-inch shaft to favour, wide cap to its wiry black bush. He didn't stroke so much as sway; a tiny roll of his palm on the base kept throbs and blood in the tool, so close-in to Fox its 'eye' could place a contact lens on the real thing. "We don't come this way, expend fuel for play time. You..." Both slits in the gold stare were vigilant; while he rolled cock down, smacked Fox's nose and pocked pre's clear on the black, he drank in the subtle power of those yellow ears pinning; retreated on-cue, flagging that helpnessness. "Howyousay... Can be shishkabob..."

"Mmmmrrrnnn..." A sound Fox never knew from himself had floated up his throat; a second, rougher patting set in from the right. Leon said little; his arresting oral muscle, the vivid green of his natural scales, gave all the heat its cold blood may, and had Fox's stomach weakened; the SharpClaw's splendour grew from exotic far-relatives along.

Not timid, but wise, the chameleon dragged his lone word through a breath's majority. "Sssssluuuuttt..."

His arms braced and shuddered; Falco's bass made laughs with face half-beat by Fox's tail.

Wolf's ego embodied supremity, how it grew to see Fox taste and praise his size. "Dinner's on, kit."

Their target had been graceful in action; Seeing Wolf step up, rock pelvis and point out the deepthroating he'd be forced to oblige, that era came to end. "FFFhhck..."

Who knew which male was more culpable; did Wolf plunge in beastfully, or did Fox's lips shoot onto him, washing over that cumgun. Falco's instant dip, the LightFoot's holler, Bill's "WHOOoah" and earbounce showed that as the focal point, and in a quick leap and pull away from the greyhound, Pepper was first to narrowly avert a peak. He scraped by with Bill's hand on his smoky nip, twisting and keeping him on safety of an edge. He'd only glance down - watch Bill beating like hell his own meat, think arousedly on younger, strong equipment - then see the LightFoot crowd Wolf's team, so tall he could do what they couldn't; give the Fox's browline its dickslaps, with Panther on the nose, Leon at ear's outline, and Wolf's arms shooting forward.

Under all of them, on the yellow chin's curve, Wolf pulled like he meant to pry. Thus finished any contest of speed; Three dicks around him smacked air for half-a-second, now that Fox's head was on him... Down seven, eight inches, all-but-bottomed out and smelling the fuzz that lay waiting. He played a whine like sweet violin; Wolf's contribution was ecstasy, by all the talent promised him. "GAHHHHD-YES!!! "

He recoiled, like catching a ball of iron; with Fox so loose, and hollow as Panther's accusings, his one eye gleamed like four. "UNGH-TART-husk'v'hide... Show you the price... Of a... White knight..." His speech slowed, chin uptilted; it took no legwork for Fox to sink hard, rotate lips on that manspear, hit the base and suck all that lay there in throbs. The one power Fox could hold on anyone: reducing Wolf to moans, sudden abandon, while three others caught up and bashed swollen caps to blonde headfur.

The uke's back would roll, compulsory waves; Falco's tip crazed him, frenched the hole with pre. Careful thrusts; it was Falco most of all to send tingles racing up his body. The Sharpclaw rubbed him raw; even moved down, encroached on his nail-hard cock, met their lengths head-to-reptile point. Clawlike fingers wrapped both; he stroked, down Fox's schlong while up his, then reverse. Dino's tongue swept half his chin in a dangle; must be long as a certain wolfhood when it wasn't straight-steel, shoved down the neck of his enemy. Fox could struggle, he'd have every excuse; but as wide as his throat, as little as he'd gag, the past served well.

He shanked himself on nine inches, outdoing Wolf's effort; Falco's brow curved to the arc of glad stun. "Fuuuck that's it... Down it all..."

Wolf approved, all the way to his six-pack clenching on the ram. A grunt, and a palpable sneer, to invade so deep. "Yeeess... Shhhhit you're made for it... Thank your feathered friend for his largess..."

Falco's smiled upped its height... Fox, the rumble in his throat, meant a thanking stopped by wrist-thick plug. Panther hit harder, stamping that nose to sting; light noise began of his shovel-tongue on fur, like he'd taste their sub's want in every twitch and gurgle. Leon - one hand sneakily behind him - played on anatomy, sank his green dick in the soundstage-shape ear, an odd, marvelous feel for a yellow victim.

Even compromised, Fox well-sensed; he knew Bill's breathing as it closed in; a low, hummed groan as tail for every lungful. He stood astride SharpClaw; his dick, wet as any else, lay in and scrubbed that chest, Fox's pec right on the bud. Elder arms locked around the grey dog; the General, his foreskin, swept into the crack. From that, Bill's coastal brogue blew heat, feeling Pepper, knowing Fox. "Ss-suck, dude... You know love for this ring o' dicks..."

As Fox whined, chipper keys up Wolf's meatstick, his ears pinned their lowest; LightFoot's fist hit his dick, bounced hard mass on the brow, in equal time with Falco's tip. But the bird made exit; drawing back, his circling the hole with a focused tip had Fox near-fall, barely holding up as the rush and lust snatched him. Wolf's jaw flew down; his pitch boomed to a moan so rich it lay goosebumps on the eight around him. The force on Fox went straight to work, and nowhere in his mind did a harder, better suction exist, flying up his rod, pounding to a bush and golf-ball nuts. "OOOOHHFUCK you sunuvavacuum..." Perfection, but Fox wasn't to learn this. Taunting, feeding lies to his captive would suit him. "Faster... Roll on it, you... Ex-CUSE for an airman..."

Falco fought so hard to make it leave that ass; his head shined up to him, its way to scream the need to shoot. But all in purpose; it touched that tender anus, and by his hand and hips would drag the base, down by tiny measures each time Fox half-kicked in sensory purge. The slow, metered dip put him on a bulge, mid-from Fox's hole to his sack. Their mantoy now droned a constant hum, so pleasure-scorched; meat down his gob, batting his head, stimulating a nip and dick both hard as bone, and now, Falco's tall head covering his prostate, just the slick heat alone making miracles for nerves all throughout him.

Wolf's chest bowed out; he rode the ecstacy, still treating Fox as a doormat, ordering more. "Lip it... Where's your skill now... Let's see it, boy... Throatful o' my dick..."

Panther's licking, the drool it bore, just partly swallowed. He was first to spit; the splash, the spot-impact, wet an ear the chameleon nearby didn't frot on. It ran, foamed in lazy drip... Wolf's grin widened, a look past his chin on the fox defiled. He huffed a sigh in sputters; Panther took the torch of humiliating. "You like? Lowly bitch, you want the big men... We teach..."

What Wolf saw most was the flutter; in Fox's closed lid, utter surrender. Pushing in, grinding cock in that throat, he committed. "Gutsy-whelp... ALL you're worth... Never the best..."

Falco, beak raised high on one side, fit their mood with ease. He rubbed light on the bulge; shudders met his dickhead whole-hog. "Yeah, hear that... Ain't even the best on your crew..."

Leon's spitwad flew from scaled lips to Fox's cheek; off-center, it streaked him a wet line to the jaw, shook off by Wolf's maw-hammer. The scales darkened; dark green dirtied with red, subconscious and signaling. He saw Falco's plot; the blue chest backing off, his face down to eye the prostate hill; his hand below a foxtail, half-wrapped on his pipe. Falco's rasp, anticipating, tracked his removal of touch from the gland, to take and slam its bump with rigid bluntness.

"MMMM-M-MM-MFF-F-FHMMM!!! "

Hands clawed the floor; a tail became a yellow fan; everything in Fox funneled rampant pleasure straight to his brain, with ass clenched, eyes rolled back, legs in tremors. He couldn't weather treatment on his gland, gun deep in his gullet, a set of other men simply filthing his ears in multi-ways. Wolf's core curved back; his bitch, his vision of triumph lay framed by his comrades' large backs. He had little care for the state of Leon's hand, what it held... In this time, his regard went to Fox, the squeeze-petting tongue, lips working the lowest inches, forced on the strongest musk from the room's greatest reach. A thrust for every push and gobble, knowing helplessness lay hooked to him. His allies blazed the spitpath; now he'd roll that stomach forward, loom high by Fox's face, simply purse his lips and let it fall between the eyes. In trail it flowed to the snout, dipped right under and was joined with gloss, Fox's oral juice and that of Wolf's cock, thickly mixed.

Falco's phrase, roasted in want, still sold short his fix on them. "'Attabiiitch-" He so lightly smacked that glandbulge, kneeled right where reaction looked finest. Seeing Fox bow to gloating minds, he even upped the punch, slapping hard pace with Fox writhing. "How's that, boo... Second-fiddle to a golden boy, my ass..." He had no obstruction not to see the entry, above his dick and starved for filling. So he had little more to wait, but his hand would move up, sidle next to it, and slip in a finger to the passage, swift and rougher than any descriptives. "No... YOUR ass..."

The records broke for Fox, in blisswaves, in reflex, prisoner of his body. Falco dug him deep; not wide as the dickhead, but lunging for more, kneading past the prior tip. How could he suffer it mildly... The taintslaps, facial pats, having SharpClaw's tip kiss his, His oldest friend next to him, his right-hand behind and the scourge of skies in front, beautifully wrecking him. Bill's swirl on his chestbump made new impacts, his hand knuckling its underside, Pepper's tool doling stiff beat in his anus.

Wolf still outshined, hitting long, stealing the show. How Fox worked him had the despot stud bite his lip, put breaths to a wheeze; unthinkable slip from control, and bearing in with hands and hips, he vowed it wouldn't happen twice. "Fffff-" His first word failed him; those next were fuller, like pistons to compress and fire manliness. "Nghhh... Who's ace in the cockpit. Scream it on me, kit."

"MmmmRRhg-ghwwhh... Mmhhwwww'lll...Mhwwllllkk-kff..."

"Ffffuuuck that's close... Do better..." The pressure in his balls meant a light ache, with percussion on the chin of his fair slave.

"Say it, bitch..." Falco's control aged poorly; his dick throbbed harder each paddling he pushed. "He's on the ball, spill it." One finger went to two, prepping Fox but barely stretching it.

"M'wwhhllhf... WWWhllLFF-FFF!! " Success through a raise of his throat, up two-thirds of Wolf's span and straight down again.

Groans, crossing octaves, battered fox ears; Leon's owned and the other. A hero's valiance melted; Fox lay as putty in their hands, on their dicks and what greedy stunts they pulled with him. Senses seemed to just blend; touch, smell, taste, all rode him along on delirium. If his eyes weren't shut, nothing said he would even notice Leon's hand, coming forward, bringing the rope. One shadow dropped on a hasty kneel; Fox at least knew when his hands were bound, the scales of violet-green tying close to knot them snug. Soon, his fists cupped each other; but at Wolf's winking cue, Lightfoot and Panther dipped, hoisted up their muse by his chest and had him on the way. Falco's digits left him; Wolf's length was robbed from him, as were nip and prostate torment. He sailed up, caught by Bill on the back and spun, flipped so fast that the next he felt was Falco's mitt on his arm, and huge wolven wood, quick to find his assflesh, feel it out with rubs. Up the crack, long and sadistic.

Falco'd stirred it well; Wolf, how he was situated, called out the wily job done on that fuckhole. "Pinked up... Tenderized..." The cruelty hit home; his shaft hit a tunnel so primed to enable him. Before he'd slam in, he'd flog the access... Worse than Falco'd spurned the taint, he slung dick with king-size whips. Fox ass, red and weak, wracked shudders on punishment and fueled Wolf's verve. "A little bird told me you'll behave... You're in his debt for selling it." Never had his eyes so narrowed; Fox was more than slave to him, but a warm, tight sleeve that lay praying for that club to dig and smash.

The bird cast back a glance; Wolf saw his sly offense. "I know it's not 'little' I heard..." Fox heard from close-in; his wingman's face hovered, drawing beak to mouth... Saying one last blurb. "... And you know."

They locked tongues. Moist lips cupped an avian maw; Bill and two dinos would hoot. The surfer-groans smoothed; Pepper's pace hit autopilot, his mind on the scene and twisting Bill's pecs. Sharpclaw rubbed his own topside, sliding the rest down Fox's neck. Each reptile ridge plucked his spine where most sensitive; he was back to nirvana, full as ever. Briefly, LightFoot envied Wolf; a score he'd yet to settle, still stroking his bone, seeing Wolf's brutalize the yellow upstart, his partners catching heat off his burrow. But the spirit, the honour, meant he'd only help the mood. "Look, he moves like serpent..." Conveying the waves in Fox, a tide shooting up from the toes. Falco sealed an end to the kiss, butted brow to his leader's and yanked his tall cock on Fox's moan. The tribal saur's inches sailed in his hand; he alone stood edging, apt and contained. "His toothless... It cries out to swallow snake."

Even Leon's composure disintegrated, smug morsels coming out with his tugs. "Fill it, Wolf... Ohfuck, feed him, poison the good..."

A Latin cat added on, by words and a mitt on Wolf's shoulder. "Hear his whimper, it's for you. Possess it."

All along, Wolf's grin had grown; Panther's urging made the last straw. He would roll steady down to tip the hole, but unlike Falco, take its reward. His focus, his power, all trace of both were harnessed. He shoved; to him it felt like slow-motion, though Fox and company saw the vicious clip. His length drove wrathfully; inch after inch, it stabbed in Fox to the diaphragm.

"OHHHH-H-H-GOD-"

Patrons back in the barroom twitched ears; a few clapped in jest. Fox, his ass, burned like a crashing ship... So fucking singed on the monster raiding pumps, a villain's loving. No matter that Falco leaned up to kneel; he took the blue pole offered him, sucked and downed it with zeal, but nothing compromised Wolf. Throwing dick up his hole, beastly plunges, watching a dance in the back muscles. They did what the lungs could not; inform every ego and swinging dick above him how he rushed on it, pulverized and swirling over Falco.

"Mm-mhww..."

He managed no more; he lay void of strength. Trembles took up his ears, their pinned pose... They all saw the shape on his lean frame, each limb in turn by clench and seize.

"Taaake-it bro..." Bill half-sang and wobbled, finding Pepper a talent to hit him just right, reach around and palm him with seasoned hand. He leaned back, and found the tongue also satisfied, a smoky note in the taste they swapped. Hums scored their sampling; Fox might reminisce on Bill's but for the agony, wonderful trauma. He yipped; Wolf had drawn up a fold of his asscheek, pinching it, rejoicing in his clench and shattered moxie. He closed teeth on lower lip; resentment and contempt just improved it.

"NNHH-HGGHhff-"

"Wag, boy." Wolf made it adamant, his order to a bitch. "You seat a greater... Pilot's... Reach..." He'd made his rhythm, cooled to a cruise in Fox's hole; collected, his sub dicksleeve at the mercy of whim and whopper. "Bow, whelp... Know your place... Ohh-hfuuck..." A burst of tightening in Fox had him jumped.

The roughest scales and groan were SharpClaw. Standing by Falco, he'd no longer tend himself; a hand went up on the bird, first his haunch, then up his back with careful claws, massaging as the dino shuffled over. To this end he was welcomed, Falco pulling ultra-slow from a fox mouth, letting saurian meat take his place. A kiss, a drag of tongue on its shaft, and it was down the willing gob. His teeth closed into each other, given what he coveted. "Ahhffh... He... He feasts well..." Conjugation had altered; he paid most heed to the room's high-victor, sweating through his eye patch, though LightFoot more noticed him back with smile and headturn.

"You give different." The native said cheekily, bent over Fox's lower back to bring their wood together. Batting and tiprubbing commenced. "Fur-man always seek new... He bonds your ridge? "

SharpClaw opened eyes. As his 'kin' implied, Fox's inner gum loitered on the ridges, a trait apart from he and those follicled. Not that they weren't pushed; even more, now that Fox's true whore streak indicted him. LightFoot praised the sum and his member, twirling thumbstrokes. "Soft vessel... Hard warrior... He not choke..."

Fox went smooth, affectioned, down to faded loinscales. He heard movement, felt a drop on his lumbar; Bill had thought on all the cock seen by his schoolmate, so much since last they joined; his pre leaked in pit of vertebra. "Man, you filthy sunuvavix..." The trill in his groan struck Panther, putting catdick to rub Fox on-root of his tail. Wolf enlivened this, how his fifth limb split Fox and heaved him forth on repeats. Bill went hotly on. "... Come a long way from showers and suckin' on a bunk bed... Yuh hit stick, didn't look back..."

Wolf crested a laugh; in grunt and thrust, he eyed his own bayonet, watching pull and reentry. "It hits him to the bone... Drives out courage... He won't earn..."

Fox whined; Wolf slammed in, and it jailbroke squeals. He heard Panther and Bill, but winced more than listened. Wolf's dick blew up his chute. "He fancies you... See his nose when you speak..."

The named organ relaxed on Bill's voice, even open. The dog was savvy. "Academy life's P.E. on steroids. He knew my jock more than his..."

Panther hiked up his rub next to Wolf; Leon mirrored him, turning blue on his skin's red, brightening. "As he knows now defeat... His masters..."

Wolf leaned back by his upper height; one hand swept past Panther's cock, up the foxtail. Its job was his handle, reared back and riding ass. That which Falco'd led, recruited, laid out like an entrèe, he ravaged, pounding Fox to the point of howl. His lips pursed, and half the men could melt for the strains he sent up to the rafters.

Fox shook in wail, unheard for the howl by his assplug. Wolf bought him sheer, sweet pain, whipped his guts; he made an angry bottom, pushing into thrusts, both hating and taking the outlaw. His teeth ground with cracking whines; despising that Wolf knew how he fucked all ego and resilience right out of him, but it felt so damn good. His cheeks lay spread; each had one of Wolf's hands clasped where softest, held apart to have him rock deep, skirt the ring with curls. Foxtail waved as a flag in gales; a bead of Panther's pre caulked it, trickled down lines to his hole, where it and Wolf's spit slid nine so fluid in and out.

His arms lay stable, tied snug, but the knees would give out with any more. Not by stress in pose, but the total domination he suffered, how it fed his mind and warped his cave. Fox dick made streams of manlube, too much for carpet to sop; one pool of many, but far beyond what Falco, Bill or others could dribble. He'd never move head or eyes enough to see Wolf plunge it in; God how he wanted to, more and more as that tyrant intoned. "Grind, wretch... Love my club... Oooo-oohh... It fights you... Love it and... Despair..."

By want or force of instinct, Fox heaved and wheezed words. "OHH-Hhshiiit... Bhh-... Beat... Me in..." He gazed up, slow-rolling his neck to catch the face of every male using him; glassy eyes lay in a strong, ruined uke. "Ice me... Dump loads... Sh-shoot down my fur..."

"You dare demand? " Wolf's bass dropped its strain, potent as his gun's abuse. "That station's mine." Fox felt a covering; dark and warm, Wolf's front cloaked him. Muscle hit his back; arms swept under to the chest. "Shriek, whelp! "

Fox obeyed; Wolf blanketed no comfort nor affection, his cruel embrace like hiding a bitch's shame. Emasculation filled his ears; he held tighter, and by Fox's head, a grin told his hubris. "Frail worm. I don't hear a hero..." His fingers, spread on Fox's high abs, made first pull. "... So sit and SQUEAL!! "

Wolf went ruthless in a double-armed yank. Fox saw Falco, SharpClaw, the ceiling, all bleary; taken from all fours to upright, on his knees, arms tethered. Wolf readily caught him; the yellow core slapped on pecs; his neck came into the spread of teeth, and though shallow, Wolf's bite in his tender flesh spread his maw wide. From his throat, pitiable squeaks, for the crook whose monster shoved from below; his knees within Wolf's legspread, males with fur and scales crowding them. Tough wolven hands pushed him up; gravity did the rest. For so long, his eyes couldn't open; once the sting subdued his hole, slitted eyes looked on the circle; eight towering men, their shafts up with blood and want, at his cheeks, his temples, and at 12 o'clock, Bill's greyhound meat leaned to his nose. A dampness on the bridge splitting nostrils... His old friend's pre, and his moan blowing heat down the underbulge, cooling it but coming back hotter.

Bill, stone-cold sly, raked his meat up the snout and wagged. "Yeeeahh... Hurts like heaven, eh... Fuuuck, drop 'im hard Wolf, crush tha-ahh-" He cut off by Fox's tongue, slinking on his sack, warm slithers at each ball and between them. The precision startled him; how hard was it to do with Fox's body up, ass fucked in the air, lapping through the wails. Wolf leaked in him like a sieve. His hole went wetter than his mouth, even slicker than the maw he pressed to Bill's nuts, gently luring a sphere. Suckling, coddling the sweat and fuzz, remembering so much of long ago. In love with Wolf's malice, such length crashing up and in. Twitching all around his face, as cat, chameleon, falcon, dinos and the greater canid pushed, rubbed, slapped, stamped, all with only manhood, rock-hard for him.

The dog pilot whooped; full-body shudders, greatest when Wolf bounced their bitch, or when his nutsucker let the ball go to dip and take skin in his teeth, nibbling, whining. Wolf barked in mirth; Bill's grunts were hot and heavy; never in the years had Fox sang such yelps, the pure submission they heard, enjoyed, enabled. Wolf's teeth had left the neck; bloodless pockmarks rutted a tattoo, flaunting how one alone owned him, sealing that with pump-after-pump, breathing harder as Fox ached, thrummed shots of pain so high-in. None of them - least of all Fox - could be relied on to hold off. Panther slid on Pepper, and Fox's browfur; Leon's tongue fell to hang, SharpClaw's ridges on his head as they defiled a fox cheek. The night's focus, their wet, helpless manwhore, brandished dick so steel-strong every throb played its own pump, as full and dribbling as he'd ever felt or been.

His ears may as well have glued to his scalp; Wolf had no issue with digging nose in one, teaching Fox his breath's whoosh before continuance. A rare phase of slowing in Wolf's plunges... But to angle hips, and have his spear scoop the wall at prostate's bump. Fox's neck so-tightened the vessels showed outline... Their new owner smiled on his effects. "You are nothing... You're dust on my chin... Grass under my boot... Me, pup... You belong to ME-"

A chime started in, stunning most of them. SharpClaw gasped, flinching; the rest shook it off not losing face, save for one. Fox's jaw trembled; his sweat had been pleasure, but redoubled in helm of raw fear. His drinks soured. Queasiness hit his stomach, and a self-loathing flared; it would be so easy to've switched off that wristcom.

His woe was detected; a man like Wolf held instincts in spades. He nudged the ear deeper; thrusts pitted his bitch far as ever. "What's this... Someone important, maybe? " He pushed two hard pumps; it felt amazing in a newly-tensed core. "Aggh-hhyeessss... You can't know... Without checking... Answer it, boy."

Fox lay at war with himself. Perishing all thought to open it and be exposed, but Wolf, the mental hold and power, wouldn't be denied. He'd not stop himself from craving to obey, fulfill his enemy's every wish... But logic, fright and the unknown were stronger. He did his best to move his neck, revive muscles and shake his head.

It had Wolf just dig in harder, nose and cock. "I said answer it..." The grey hands on fox chest lifted higher; Fox was truly in the air, tip-fucked and starting the longest, starving moan. "... Or you get thrown and I blow this load myself."

The others rubbed off with his collarbone; having none on his face, much less in his hole, Wolf killed his hesitation with rigor. He looked every bit submissive, hands tied, bending his neck to nose the button. Pre smeared on the device; damp with manjuice like himself, it nevertheless lit up and cast a screen. By his head, below the others', nothing would prep him for the sight.

His rabbit friend, fondly trusted, warmed a chair in the Great Fox... Feet up on a desk, head and ears back, his soft gut comparable to Pepper's. Nude, one hand below his package, finger in his ass; the other draped on himself, softly loving his near-five of veined length, the foreskin-wrinkles thick and moist. Fox ignored the low laughs around him; as did Peppy, wearing a face like he'd never have imagined, had it not stared its arousal straight on him. No more was he shy for himself; Wolf lowered him, and the rabbit watched the bliss invade his leader, the eyes flutter, nose huff a breath so rich it had the pictured feet waving. Eight men's circle now crunched on each other, leaving one break, where Fox, Wolf and many could help the hare to a show.

A brayed gasp left Peppy, smoothing belly's curve. "Dang, ain't you a sight... All tangled... They've been workin' your tight young butt..." Grey hairs in a trail led chest to loins; his body folded, moving hand to auto-tug. "Falco... Where's his no-account beak..."

"Right here, leaper." The bird lifted arms to a thuggish self-point; his dick scrubbed Fox, more pre on the scalp mid-earspan. "Didja pony up, or will your name be 'antique' from now on? "

A rattled laugh. "It's here. You'll have every cent I promised, just fetch him back mussed and loose." Fox eyes shot wide, then rear-darted, taking Wolf's full force. Peppy blurted a curse, so turned-on it was nonsense... He followed with better, and quieter. "Chip off the ol' block..."

Fox's jawline shivered. Sharpclaw's ridges scraped his nose. Panther's pipeline eked by his eye; its heat, its throb, blurred below the purring. "Beggar. Show Wolf his truth... Convict him..."

Wolf pumped so hard his uke stretched tall. Spine was a perfect line, in a fox who dove himself on the rhythm, the shaft whose speed and size set true power. Wolf burgled him, swept his inner gland like hell. His top's head bobbled; teeth shone out in airy hollers, tongue limp. He'd broken Fox, but Fox had broke him right back. Neither howled louder than the other; only Wolf's translated as manful. Fox - mancave red, face damp and pre-shined - bayed as Lylat's prime slut. All that rested it was Bill's cock shoving in his gob. Suction was instant, supreme. A third howl joined the fracas.

"Smoke it... Yeeahhh, run them fellas..." Peppy's voice tittered; six hard cocks pushed the facial fur on every bearing. Wolf's dick went to the hilt; his tail flayed the ground, Fox's flayed his abs. Bill's low bush gave his nasal fur a handshake. Two reptiles moans; dickholes met, shafts whisked each other. No male was silent.

Peppy tugged wildly; his bell bulged from groping. "Take that wolf dick... Suck yerr buddy... Ah shit yerr zoned..." The hare sweat through his footpads; the span filled half his screen, and on his side, Fox's head and chest trickled manflow. He all-but drooled. "Gettin' railed so hard... Yerr the ride o' Wolf's life... Fuck-ME, kit... Just like your daddy... Spittin' image..."

Fox's eyes twitched open a second's fraction; over quick, with knees bent and tendons bound, slurping his ass on it. Wolf, his gulps of air between howls, cast total claim on his uke.

"Thick ass... Sittin' wide... Second man t' take all that workin'..."

Even Wolf himself disbelieved he could hammer it harder; but Fox ducked his hole on every inch, and the beat he kept went crazy. Not simply hollowing, but bashing, far as he reached. Riches, power, all would pale next to his drive to shoot up that ass. The only thought he held, to fly past the edge and have it spray out around him, see Fox bend and wail as he fucked jizz up into his new pet. Most men above dripped spit; the rest forced it, ejected on the golden-yellow face. Leon and Panther spat hardest; they stood on peak's cliffside, and knew already how strong it'd come.

Bill pulled free; his girth rubbed his friend's hairless chops. Fox cried out; it neared pain to forge words, but all pain was good by the sucker to Wolf's stick. "N-GHAAAHHH... FUCK... USE... ME... MMFF-FHFHH... " two things he couldn't hope to do; keep his eyes above half-open, or stifle the build, the sign his balls would soon give it up. All eight heard him plainly... He intended it. "FFFFU-UHHKK... RAIN-... IT-... ON-... ME-EEH-HHH..."

Dog's dick filled his lips, mouth, throat; he was throttled, fucked on either end. Panther yowled; Lightfoot brayed; Falco's dick rocketed on the nose, its jet pores, while he cheered. "Shiiiit, gonna... Gonna cum!! "

"Yeeeaah, HIT it!... " Peppy rocked in his chair, the hinges creaking. "HIT that gawddamn crest, boys!! Aww-w-wGAWD!!!-"

His gut bent in throes... Watching, hearing them ascend, with Fox heaviest, as Wolf leaned in, spat in his ear, latched teeth-on-flap and roared.

"RRRGHAAAHHHHHH!!! " "HNNNGH-"

Fox locked down below the belt; his tail fluffed, eyes rolled back; the flood was upon him. Inches stabbed up his ass, in with spunk coming shot after shot, hot as the breath in Fox's ear. He squeezed on Wolf's cock, it jammed him like hell, every push with a load. Wolf's howl was earsplitting; Fox yowled a combo of scream and whine, pitching up. "AHHHHH... AHH-HH-HHR-RRR... GOD... MY... ASS..."

The first rope from elsewhere wrapped his muzzle. Rough gasps rose from SharpClaw; his ribbed member fired off, first in the circle. Fox's tongue moved the moment of contact; out and curving to steal thick cream. Oddly sour; a citric bite in the dino's protein. More flow hit from point-blank, with SharpClaw's dick in scorching rub by his nose, hips pivoting, fangs bared in jawgape. No pause before another, targeting his cheek.

"OHHHHh... OH-Hhh..." Panther simply poured the silkiest note, his pint of seed blasting Fox, thin but in a torrent. Spunk drenched him like milk bombs; from the bullseye, it fell and flowed down his pec, forking roads by his nip. SharpClaw'd emptied fast, in five-flat he'd gave it up to the ending drip... Panther shot on, no less with so much to fire, when Fox heard the bird who'd orchestrated all. Falco's stance put his goods at-forefront, flaunting head size and the twitch in his thighs.

"On you... Looks natural... Ohhhfuck... My second, comin' atcha... OhhHH-HH-HHHh- "

Spatter straight-amid the eyes; Fox begat a shimmy, the trail down his brow a sensory buzz. Wolf rushed right on into him; just now, during three other males, his fuel would taper off on shot fifteen. Five wee cracks lay from Fox's manhole to Wolf's shooter... Five paths for hot cream to make lines where his plunging laid out. Peppy lay in tremors, wordless while jizz shot up his hair trail, undone by the spectacle.

Fox ached to peer skyward; though Wolf nailed his asshole every clock's tick, he mustered what it took. His struggling vision repaid him; Bill's jawline, the sweat of Falco's neckquills. One dino's drowsy smile, huffing his last of peak... Then LightFoot's abs gone to wave and ripple, his hummed grunt and seed sent in-tandem to Fox's free ear. A fine trajectory, streaking fur, linking fox flaps by line-on-line. Their toy spasmed all over, as if on the peak he merely neared; a chuckle sifted in with wails. "YEAHH-H G-GIMME IT... LAY THAT... BATTER ON..."

Pepper groaned, seeing scaly beef undulate, riding its orgasm... Bill groaned harder, louder, a message he'd be next to go. Fox's ass twitched; Wolf hardly slowed, pounding in climax, but their uke thought also of the plug in his throat. More to swallow... More for toothed just like 'toothless', two ends he so-used. Bill's push was known clear as yesterday; his hike in pace, the way he lingered on thrusts at their furthest. His jaw gritted; his hand smacked Fox's head to pull him in, and hit gobs of native's sperm, the last few ropes drizzling his rear-palm. A greyhound's yawl intoned. "OOAAHHHH-DUUUUUUDE!! "

Fox whined in spite of the taste sliding down his throat. Bill's seed and its mild sweetness came gulped every shot. Fox's thirst, his pal's service, imbued by shockwaves from a wolf whose greed meant milking the surge through giant meatshoves. Fox's hole lay cherry-red, streaked by white, and his old foe's dick would not quit. Wolf went right on packing him, relenting only roars to a hypnotic, gulch-low growl.

Panther's load drowned his high abs; a hoarse yell, and Leon's cream joined his wingman's on that core. Chameleon dick spun colours; green to red to yellow, a prism in flux as it shot hard and fast, cascading to fox loins, their bristle. Bill tipped forward a hair in time with breaths; gave the last thick swimmers to his old bro, and prided on the gulp quenching subby thirst. Peppy's rocking slowed, ropes ended from his head. Wolf kept strong, never losing firm or length; the punishing waxed harder. His sigh was longest, raw with wile; Leon's flow slacked off, his colour-shift abated. Peppy's fingers shoveled his white, lifted to his mouth, recycled salt-protein while eyes corralled the action. "Mmm... Call you a birthday cake... Treat myself t' that glaze..."

The digits dug into his mouth; he envisioned it as more than just his. The other hand swept his cock, up and down, lubed by fresh cum. "... Seems I can't, but you can. Do it, boy." He lusted on Fox, on the taste of his product, but neither even close to what sprung his goosebumps. Fox had taken to heart; in time to go with Peppy's last swallow, he slid off Bill's meat with vivid suck, curled down, brought hands to his own chest and rolled them down his pecs. The dog's howl boomed ecstasy. Fox mounded waves of spunk. Squirming, whimpering, he ate, the many's flavours in a cocktail to shame any beverage.

Wolf thrilled, all times his rival made an evident whore... Thrusts returned to their height, cruel and chasing release. "Yeeeess, down your neck, pup... What a bitch I've culled..."

The hare's stroking sped on; tiny echoes through the screen as he whipped and bubbled sperm between knuckles, stimulating what gave it. "Tell it, Wolf. Fuck his li'l hole. Ohh-h-hh burgle that butt..." He ran up and down his choad; the nuts slapped, and Fox lay feasting on cum, bounced on Wolf in bliss of pain.

"As you wish..." Wolf humoured Peppy, their identical want. he put a hand to Fox's throat; caressed the windpipe, felt its bulge as a nearby gullet sent jizz to the gut. Fingers eked up to the yellow chin. A body stepped in, damp and round; Pepper's limit had found him. As Wolf clenched the slut's jawline, more to seal possession, so too did a clench hit that hound's sphincter. The jowls rippled; he rolled 'R's in his peak-growl, and had Wolf chide his target while seed sprayed the golden chest, hand and throbbing dick. "... One last... Tank to wash you... Wreck your fur... A real man's cum, on a... Kit like you..." Breaks filled his voice; Pepper's fire and his own shoves took a toll. Fox ate cum like a vagrant given bread; he'd have his fill, and Wolf have seconds of the whet to his appetite. Grey fingers massaged Fox's throat, even while teeth snapped and nibbled his ear. Through his fur - the coarse golden tufts - jizz soaked and wove its ropes down to warm skin. Face, chest, arms, stomach, none of the cock-taking slut was free of those loads, hot and so thick on him he smelled of their spunk.

The Admiral came his last, winded with his lips in 'O'; drips hit Fox's shaft, each one juicing his whine while they traveled pulsing limb. Fox's hands spazzed; his legs floundered; breaths were erratic. Wolf's rod lent no mercy; three-fourths of a foot went hard as the beat in his chest. The men were in awe; though spent, they groaned, reveled in their slut and how each had affected. Debauchery took rule; Panther spat on his dick and spanked Fox hard on the cheek. Pepper yanked on his sack, twisting gently his shaft to milk its nerves. Falco turned to Bill, lay arms around and pulled him in; they danced tongues, swapped spit, ran cum-covered length on one another, no rhyme or rhythm.

Fox shook for all; every slide of flesh, every pair of lungs in action, inched him closer. Peppy rumbled praise, teeth half-chattering. Closer. Wolf beat his ass in with a monster. Closer. Panther's dick stamped a mushroom under cheekfur soiled with bunk. So close... His nuts, their agony, felt like a hand's clamping on, ready to baste himself with feverish load. Wolf's teeth ground on his earflap; sensation boiled in that huge pipe, madly pumping. At last, with every male in lust with him or each other, Fox had sense become reality. Wolf's right hand gripped his jaw, traced maw with clawtips. The left swooped and banged on his balls, closed over them, and pressed.

No sound escaped him.... Nothing issued from the feeble lungs or wide, cum-slopped throat. A 'plop ' hit the ceiling... LightFoot stared in shock and respect. Fox at last squeaked out yelps; successive loads were bullets, over heads, arcing to chairs stacked beyond. The stern Wolf - hardest to rattle - felt pupils expand, before the sweat, clench and moment dragged him in. Fox writhed, every inch of him wet, veins in his dick deep by discharge. Falco moaned; a rope flew to his chest, then his neck, then the feathers of his navy crest. Their great bitch wound up a cannon; the peak's might consumed Fox, recoiled him to his toes, turned muscle to stone. Wolf had never fucked hole so tight; Fox spewed cum on his wingman, caught Pepper by the eyebrow, and his huge-hung dom sank into a second, furied peak. Wolf spread pecs on Fox, lay into him and jizzed in his first batch; old met new, and nowhere to go but up, far into the bitch whose pipe was a fire hose. Drool even spritzed from Fox, his breath propelling it. Shot upon shot, scream after squealing scream, and Wolf's heat baked the sweat they sandwiched. Chin tilted for the sky; the sequel dwarfed the first, for only the heaven of fox ass in frozen resistance. Peppy's hand went wild; tongues dangled all around, dicks that had released and started dipping went straight. Fox's end, his crimson ring, blew cum on Wolf's balls, his brick-wall thighs, just to fit more in.

The pressure endured, a minute-plus of sheer finish for Fox; but what they'd built had to end. One long, lilting chord oozed from him; still taking Wolf's pumps, feeding strength up his mancunt, he slung his last hard shot on Falco's rod, wrapping like a headband. SharpClaw stood so frazzled he wheezed, knowing he'd replay it ever more in his mind; as would Panther, slicking cat chops with spit webbed by gasp-drying. Leon wiped his cheek; a saltdrop had shook on from Wolf, whose finish staggered him, showed the first thread of weakness, that the despot might be less-than-godly. Pushing went irregular; what had before mellowed, gone steady, now lost all pace. His chin dripped once on Fox's shoulder, then strength gave out and it cupped the toned blade. His legs held them; nothing else had vigor, his and Fox's cum both oozing, teasing the tickle of a peak that took sweet time to vacate.

Bill, so long-quiet and enraptured, formed the only word for how they judged it. "... DAMN!!..."

The screen flickered. Peppy's connection stressed, a gob worked into the wristcom; its auxillary kicked in, and on the rabbit's side of linkup it snapped him into slowing a stroke... Guarding himself. "Boy takes it like a champ. Lookit that, all'is hide..."

Wolf smirked, his maw nudging Fox, hotly sinister. "If we weighed him, half is white. And my mojo..." He retreated from Fox, an inch at a time; the uke's stomach caved, as if a plunger pulled mass from behind it. "... My lease on this pest."

The ninth inch hit the ring; the tip pulled, and like a drainplug, its removal dogged the below. Sheets of cum fell to the carpet; their coverage slammd the shag, expanse of what Wolf slammed right out of his globes, up Fox's spoiled rump. Four ankles - two of yellow and grey - backsplashed. LightFoot pawed himself, wagging relentless bone. Pepper self-twisted one nip; Bill helped him with the other. Falco, in the meantime, went stiff at the neck; his tongue twitched, eyes went turgid with focus. The puddle; thick as syrup, wide as a poster, shaded by the split from whose manhole it had stewed. As it looked to the rest of them, the bird just tipped over, swooping to the floor, caught by his arms. The tongue shot out; with no care for how many feet had stepped thereon, he lapped it up, crazed for every swallow of man he gleaned off the fibres. Fox caught his breath; gazing down, he saw Falco's legs, the bright-red assplumes, and the taut, seizing muscle as he gulped it.

Even Wolf's jaw slung open; same as everyone, thrown for a loop to see a new side of the avian. "Fit for a maverick, eh? What's baited you, your captain's musk or to take from my bag? "

Falco's groan crackled in want; he scraped tremendously, and half was down his throat before he'd even sate Wolf's query. "It's even-split... Fuck, it's the pairup..." The puddle shrank, his fault alone... A beaked funnel for yogurt, tongue rolling it up and in.

Wolf read Falco precisely; cupped arms on Fox by his tender stomach, and suavely leaned weight on their slut. Again, Fox was checked to his knees, but with Wolf now beside him. Another mewling breath and his head went tilting, rapid bows. The sensation of Falco's mouth, on a hole that could ache no further, and air yanking on the contents within.

The carpet took a pounding, Fox's fists rapping hard... The gust was icy pulling past his sore hole. Wolf thrived on the evidence; Peppy's fingertip traced his cap, watching fox squirm and wolf give his member some hard pulls, white-oiling the carpet. Falco's want proved matchless, shunted cum in short order. A tongue pressed and writhed on fox assflesh, then flicked down, rooted in that ass to cull the loads. He stopped, dug it out and swayed from the neck in scorched approval. "Fuuuck... Wolf, it's a shake..." His neck bulged; a pail's worth of jizz headed for the stomach. "Geee-zus..." His bedroom eyes cast low to Fox; his raised tail, the ruddy star, a wide back up to those ears. They turned; he was shown his leader's profile, and Fox took heed of the low, smoldering bliss from his bird. An ache would not forbid a smirk... To help was Wolf's hand, sliding over his face to smear the cum on cheeks, eyelids, muzzle. Only Wolf could blend degrading with enticing. Only Wolf could see through him, inflate his true nature.

Peppy's moan rose and fell; as he lay eyes on their subtext, men flanked them patiently, smearing cum through fingers, playing with chubs. His took the most self-attention, but in practiced tugs, stable at his edge. "Feast yer eyes on 'em, Fox. They'd have me see more. Hitch yerr damn puck... " Below his monologue, Falco licked his fingers; spooge from where the carpet held him up, its soaked shag extruding manjuice. Peppy's head arched back; looking down on two sluts, one velveteen and so wallowed in surrender, dropping wads from painted muscle. "... The chance at a hero.... Dickin' up his shame..."

In Peppy's choice of words lay his muse; Fox knew, before Falco's supplement, where he'd go by dawn's break. "Face it," crooned his feathered ally, hardly shrouding his crave to lick loads from that abused hole, "At best, you're warmed-up. Let's see that endurance... Stretch and take. You'll work up to him..." Falco wove sighs in with his lapping, cleaning hands, then dropping beak to fox ass. His eyes grew dreamy, like a glimpse of heaven... The sheer heat from that ring had him almost sneeze. Moments from diving, a nuzzle harsh enough on Fox's anus to win Wolf's praise in chuckle. His thought finished. "... He'll break you like none."

"Sure broke the one who put'ch here..." Peppy's charisma grew shadier... He addressed the bird, and Wolf, jointly. "... Don't wipe him down. That first pop was quick-on me, the rest never are. When he gets here slippery, all you've shot on him..."

Wolf provided a bookend. "Damn flowcatcher. Sign it over his tailhole... It's his for life."

Fox let loose his own howl; not meaning it to coo, or his cheeks to go ballistic, but Falco's tongue up his access was a power unending. Conscious thoughts faded... LightFoot and Bill joined shadows, pressed dick on his lips. Wolf's claw tapped his nip, then stuck inside it, subtle torment. Peppy'd bloom on his investment... They'd all rue the night a legend accepted his place.

The bar soon debuted its new drink: the 'Foxhole', an instant hit.~