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Jarreth had free pick of the whores, not because of preference or exceptional good looks (though, arguably, he had the latter), but because he had weighted the mistress' pockets with a small handful of them.

Despite the mistress being just that, a lady, her whores were all boys. Some were certainly not of age, some were scruffy, and some were clearly abused, but their common ground was being male.

Paying for a whore always made Jarreth uneasy. Part of it was his frugality, the reluctance to pay for something he could simply do without, and yet there was something else - shame in his sexuality.

Attraction to men was something he fought his hardest to suppress, and had it not been for the fallen noble he'd walked with for a time, he might have kept it buried. It was an old wound, freshly torn open, promising to never heal up again. All he could do was soothe it. Hence, the male brothel.

Tall, slender, and showing fierce intelligence in his jade eyes, Jarreth intimidated the boys (though "boy" was a general term; a few were older than him, one at least a decade his senior). Smothering thoughts of financial regret and moral crisis, he objectively perused the specimens, at last settling on an exotic piece.

From behind, the foxcoon could have been mistaken for a girl, but face-on, he was obviously male. That made him no less pretty, for he was an effeminate male, if ever there was one, with hair long and silky even by the standards his peers set.

The ferret telegraphed his choice in the foxcoon by pausing before him, the first time he'd done so since he started walking down their ranks.

Perhaps so that the place wouldn't obviously appear to be a brothel, all of the prostitutes were fully, somberly dressed; the fox hybrid he eyed wore plain, tan trousers and a matching tunic. The untied V of the neck exposed a great deal of downy, well-brushed fluff, and it lent the tod a casual air.

"Are you lonesome, sir?" the fox cooed, not smiling, but sporting a coy look in his shallow, green eyes.

"Very," Jarreth lowly, warily said, rubbing his chin.

Solemnly, the fox nodded. To his left and right, his fellow whores peered at both him and the ferret, some with dejection, others with relief.

"I want you," the ferret said, almost sighing. His tone was joyless and matter-of-fact, belying the intensity of his libido.

Delegated to be the ferret's partner for the night, the tod gently took Jarreth by the paw and led him away.

Under a curtain hung in a doorway, through a hallway that slightly leaked and let in the pouring rain, Jarreth followed the prostitute deep into the whorehouse. They passed rooms that echoed with the sounds of hurried fucking, earning curious glances from the pragmatic ferret. The foxcoon, understandably, was unfazed.

"This one is empty. I personally saw to the sheets being changed this morning," the foxcoon said, though Jarreth wondered if everybody was told just that. There was no door, merely a thick, holy curtain in the frame. Given the breezy nature of the brothel, it seemed acceptable.

Jarreth shed his equipment - a bow, a sword in a scabbard, and a shoulder pack full of furs, hides, and valuable baubles for trade - and he lay it in the corner, well away from the door. While his younger escort waited patiently nearby, he untied the neck of his tunic, slid it up and off, and revealed scarred, but intact mail beneath. This, too, he shed, revealing slender musculature, the expected body of a well-traveled ferret.

Whether true admiration or just the duties of a whore, the fox lay his paws on Jarreth's chest, their tender pads at once lightly massaging into the fur. "A ferret?" he calmly asked, to which Jarreth nodded. "You're a world apart from the ferrets I usually see."

"My kind seems drawn to treachery," Jarreth shrugged.

"Then it's a small wonder that you feel so lonesome," the fox cooed. Tilting his head up and back in necessity, he kissed the ferret on the chin.

Anybody was wise to be wary of kissing a whore, but Jarreth craved the male body in every way. The tod's kiss made him shiver, and so he returned it. The moment that began in idle conversation fast escalated when the mustelid parted the whore's lips with his tongue. Inside the boy's maw, he swabbed and teased, and he soon awoke the playful wrath of the foxcoon's own tongue, which dexterously curled around and ground against his.

Jarreth could and did appreciate the silk-haired beauty he had in his clutches. Hungry for the boy, he stroked through those locks, smooth to the touch on his pads. They were not perfectly washed, somewhat soiled with dust, but Jarreth didn't mind this. He trembled as he stroked down through that hair, and down the back of the tod's neck, where he then clutched a shoulder.

Aggression wasn't something the fox had expected from Jarreth, but he took it all the same. One paw, much softer than the ferret's, having never known hard work or combat, hooked around the back of the ferret's neck. He wrapped the other arm around his client's back, and he squeezed the mustelid needfully.

As Jarreth broke off the kiss, huffing, with a lonesome trail of saliva bridging his lips and the tod's, the boy expected a complement, a heated uttering, something sentimental. Maybe, from such a handsome man (a far cry from the sleaze he tended to deal with), he even hoped for it.

Instead, Jarreth quietly ordered, as if for fear of being overheard, "Undress for me."

Straightforward was tolerable, so long as it wasn't driven by bossiness. Obediently, the fox pulled his tunic up and off, and then - with a simple tug to the knot of his fly - he slid his trousers down. Then naked, his fine male form was revealed to Jarreth, who stepped back and gave the foxcoon a thoughtful once-over.

He was slender, bearing very little muscle tone to speak of, with wonderful legs, slim hips, and a half-erect penis that was neither inoffensive nor large. Despite the newfound details, Jarreth still liked the pretty face most of all; it took him back to that disgraced noble. This foxcoon didn't have the same fire in his eyes, and he seemed to possess a weary savvy that the noble had only begun to display in the last of their days together, but the prettiness was close enough so as to satisfy.

Approval came in the shape of Jarreth lowering his own trousers, thus exposing his own full erection, perhaps eight inches of meat, uncut like the tod's, throbbing in homosexual need.

Blatant lust flashed across the tod's face, and briefly, he glanced up to Jarreth. The ferret, as yet a bit ashamed, gave little indication that the boy was fine to continue, but a subtle glance downward (followed by a more morose one out the window, down which rain cascaded) seemed a suitable enough hint.

Kneeling before Jarreth, the tod took hold of his handsome client's endowment, squeezing it in his soft paw. Jarreth huffed, and his exposed tip spurted pre that missed the foxcoon's snout, and instead landed unnoticed in his chest fur. Stroking modestly, but with a firm grip, it didn't take the fox long to earn Jarreth's attention.

Groaning quietly, closing his eyes, Jarreth bent his elbows and absently clutched the back of his own neck. He was loathe to compliment the foxcoon, to so much as acknowledge the deeply-seated queer gratification, but his body language did a fine job of it. The harder the boy would pump, the greater the ferret's reaction, soon to the point that, though idly, he was grinding into that paw.

It occurred to the fox to say something calming or clever, but the moment evaded him. It had been too long since he lay with a man who was actually pleasant; he was as eager for the sex as Jarreth was. Parting his lips, he swiftly took the ferret in, every inch of his warm length disappearing into that hot, wet vulpine maw.

With greater lust backing his voice, Jarreth groaned more deeply, and he quickly lay his paws on the back of the tod's head. His hold there wasn't so much immobilizing as it was fond, a desire to simply touch and hold the fox, which the whore didn't seem to mind.

Suckling, gulping, taking no time to bob, the foxcoon gave Jarreth oral pleasure he wouldn't soon forget. His suckles were noisy and wet, something that, at first, unnerved Jarreth and gave him pause - being caught was not an attractive notion - but he gave in to the pleasure in good time.

Oral fixation aside, the boy couldn't be expected to keep his paws to himself. One arm wrapped around a long, slim leg, the fingers teasing the thigh, but harmlessly enough. The other paw was not so benign, for after a grope on the mustelid's balls, it rubbed beneath them, across the thinly-furred taint below, but not to the pucker nearby.

The touch made Jarreth tense and grimace, and he felt as if the tod were pushing his boundaries a bit too far - but the boy stopped there. Still, the roaming fingers were the push he needed to get the foxcoon off of his knees, and to get the pleasure he was actually after. "Stop, now," he huffed, though calmly, with his fingers threaded in the boy's hair.

While his vulpine escort eased back, Jarreth offered no resistance with his paws. Before the boy's maw was entirely unoccupied, the ferret nodded to the bed, and then he redundantly said, "Join me on the bed."

Jarreth's intention had been to stop the fox from asking if he'd done wrong - and in that, he was successful. Truly lying with the ferret overrode any concerns he may have had, and - while the tall wanderer padded at his own pace to the bed - he climbed up onto its' sheets and scooted well to the side to permit the ferret.

"As much as you've paid," he said, already putting the exchange on a sour note for Jarreth, "you may enter me as many times as you wish. I'll be with you through the night." The calmness with which the fox said this made Jarreth guess, and rightly, that such an arrangement wasn't a detractor for the foxcoon.

The ferret didn't acknowledge the words, he merely joined the fox on the bed. Lying on his back, his feet hung well off the edge; it was next to impossible for somebody of his height to find accommodations. Sleeping would prove troublesome, but as far as lovemaking went, it would do fine.

For all of three seconds, he looked at the fox, and he pondered what to do next. Kissing the tod would have been fun, he thought, and yet he had all night after the sex to be so gentle. The time was right, he knew, to simply fuck. Even he had his needs, and the greatest need among them throbbed down by his waist.

Moving up to his knees, Jarreth firmly rolled the foxcoon over to his stomach, pressing him into the bed. In straddling the tod's thighs, he found himself unable to keep from perusing that taut behind, over which flagged a luxuriantly fluffy tail. Clutching the cheeks, he lightly palmed them, savored the subtle give of the flesh and fur, and then he parted them, baring the pink pucker between.

At being so exposed, the fox shivered, and needfully, he clenched, making his tail hole wink enticingly.

Few things could make Jarreth smirk, but that proved to be one of them. His smirk would go unseen by the fox, though, since he leaned low, bending his flexible form.

Despite the subpar living conditions and the coat of dust that made the fox appear grimy, he was immaculately clean where it counted. Jarreth lightly bumped his nose to the tod's entrance, eliciting a shivering moan from him; with a lick, he further broke that calm demeanor and made him gasp.

The simple truth was that most men were apt to either be sucked to gratification, or enter the tod without ever tasting him; Jarreth's rimjob, however reserved, was a much-appreciated pleasure for the boy, and he made it clear, not with words, but moans and coos that were anything but faked.

Licking the fox had been a matter of lubrication, though hearing his easy little moans and feeling his entrance clench were worthwhile pleasures of their own. Teasingly, but not by intention, the tip of his tongue wriggled against, and slightly entered the tod, spreading saliva past that anal ring, bringing pleasure in its' wake. When his tongue actually did wrestle inside, it was for a woefully short time; Jarreth needed to enter the fox, and waiting any longer was simply not an option.

Straightening out, but keeping that ass parted, Jarreth scooted up and slipped his shaft between the vulpine's warm, furry cheeks. Once, and then again, he prodded his blunt tip to the pink pucker. Gripping his meat, bracing it, he smoothly entered the boy all in one push, spurring the tod to gasp and grip the sheets, while Jarreth let loose with a heated groan.

Jarreth braced his paws on either side of the fox, and he wasted no time. He was a pent-up traveler, and the foxcoon was an experienced whore. They were made for each other in that moment, and the ferret's bucking hips nailed this fact down. Uttering not a word but gasping heatedly, he rutted the boy quickly and efficiently, each thrust so deep as to slap his balls against the tod's own (silently, for all of their fur), and so skilful as to always pull his length free to the ridge of his tip.

Beneath him, the foxcoon yowled and squealed in outspoken pleasure, his vocalizations genuine, not at all whore moans for Jarreth's money. "You're so skilled," he quaked to the ferret, nuzzling blissfully into the sheets. "Don't stop yet, please..."

Stopping was the last thing on Jarreth's mind, and the potency of his lovemaking confirmed that. Over and over, he smashed his hips into that nubile rear, making the hapless tod continue to howl out his praises, inarticulate and otherwise. For a time, he hunkered down over the boy and made his thrusts all the more shallow, pounding the fox with roughly half of his cock, and those frenzied cries only became all the more agitated.

"Oh, ooh!" the fox whined, then hissing through a grimace. "I'm not sure if I can last...!"

"You don't have to," Jarreth grunted, no sentimentality dragging down his words. The ferret was starting to feel that orgasmic twinge too, though; perhaps not as strongly as the boy, or perhaps he just wasn't as vocal, but it was there. On a whim, he wrapped his arms around the tod, held him flush, and flopped over to his side.

With greater access to that young form, Jarreth reaffirmed his grip on the foxcoon's upper body in one arm; with the other, he clutched a leg, the higher of the two, given their orientation. With a little cooperation from the writhing, gasping fox, he resumed his work, grinding into that vulpine behind more slowly, but with greater persistence. Each grind then lewdly rubbed his pulsing cock against the long-haired tod's prostate, evoking frenetic cries of bliss and pleasure.

One paw raking dulled claws on the sheets, the other needfully wrapping about the ferret's neck for closeness, the tod whimpered awed nothings to Jarreth, reaffirming the handsome traveler's skills. "Please," he gasped, one uttering in particular standing out, "keep it inside of me, I want your seed in me...!"

Jarreth said nothing, one way or the other, although to fill the boy had been his intention the whole time; it simply seemed more appropriate - even as inappropriate as the proceedings were - than to pull out for his release. And with that release in mind, Jarreth more strongly mated the tod, putting his strong, limber muscles to work, nailing his young escort for everything he was worth.

Helpless, but content, the foxcoon whimpered and squealed in overwhelming bliss. His uncut cock throbbed, and his balls drew taut to his loins; the first ropes of his seed were welcomed with a muffled whine, delivered through gritting teeth, complimented by splayed-back ears, clenched eyes, and a spasming tail hole.

The tod's release was the final push for Jarreth, who huffed and bit his lip as that wildly clenching asshole exerted itself all along his length. Trembling in the pleasure of his orgasm, he pounded into the fox again and again, more desperately and sloppily each time, while his calm resolve gave over to frantic huffing and gasping.

Finally, Jarreth entered the tod fully one last time, and he came with great force, spearing his load deep into the foxcoon's rear, warming his innards. So extraordinary was the release that he allowed himself one little outburst of pleasure, a sweet uttering like those the foxcoon so casually threw around. "Ooh, ah... You're an excellent partner..."

The fox had no reply, only deep panting coming from his maw. His tongue, long, pink, and floppy, was slopped out onto the bed.

Sweetly, Jarreth stroked along the cap of the boy's knee and his thigh. Nibbling on the tod's neck, he evoked a shivering moan; kissing there, then laying his muzzle in the same spot, he earned a deep, fond coo.

His gay desires satiated temporarily, Jarreth just enjoyed the closeness of the nubile whore, and he thought longingly of a troubled soul he doubted to ever see again.