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Coming Gale

"Honey, I'm home!" Chris shouts from the doorway. I run to him, ready to greet him properly.

"Hello dear. Would you like something to eat first? Maybe a bath? How about . . . me?" I ask, trying to be as seductive as possible while wearing the large pink apron.

". . . pfffthahahaha!" we both laugh in unison. This was just a little joke we agreed on so that when one of us came home to the other, we'd get a good laugh from it and really be able to relax.

A week had passed since I had first got here, and school was starting up. With our classes, I had Monday and Wednesday classes, while he had Tuesday and Thursday classes. Sadly, we both had Friday classes.

"Well, if I had to choose one, it would be . . ." he walks up to me and lifts my chin with his paw, making me look directly at him, straight into his eyes. "You."

My whole face starts absolutely burning up. "W-What?!"

"Damn I must be good." He says, letting go of my chin. "Even got a straight guy to blush."

. . . He still thinks I'm straight? I don't know why. I mean, I dropped hints all the time, but he never caught on?! And I can't just go out and tell him! I mean, what would happen? He would probably think I like him, (which I'm still not sure about) and then things will get really awkward. C'mon, Chris, just take a hint! Dang this guy was thick headed . . . but I guess I like that about him too.

"W-Well, I wasn't kidding about the dinner part, so let's eat."

"Wait, you seriously made dinner?" he asks, surprised.

"Yeah. I thought it would be nice if you came home from a long day of classes to a home cooked dinner. It isn't five-star or anything, but it's something."

"What is it?" he asks excitedly, his nose trying to scent the air.

"Well, I remembered how you said your adoptive parents were Vietnamese, and you loved what your mom would cook, so I just tried my hand at a few Vietnamese dishes." We walk to the table and he sees exactly what I had made.

"Wait . . . no frickin way!" he says, surprised.

"Yup, beef stew, otherwise known as bo'kho." I say, probably butchering the pronunciation. Bo' kho was a type of beef stew that was extremely hard to prepare, at least with the recipe that I had gotten from Chris. What you have to do is you have to chop a whole mess of this, add it to that, let it cook overnight to fully cook the stew to give it a creamy taste, and done. I would explain it further, but that would be totally useless since I already know how, and therefore, shouldn't have to explain it again in my head.

"B-But I never even noticed! It should have taken all day yesterday, especially for someone who's never made it before! And besides, I would have noticed the smell!"

"It was easy." I say, proudly. "I just started cooking it yesterday. And the reason you didn't notice it in the morning was because I reset your alarm to go off five minutes later than it was set. With that small change, you would feel rushed while not getting suspicious, and wouldn't notice the smell."

"You sly dog!" he says, smiling.

"Yes, I am a dog. So are you." I say, joking a little. "Well, I hope you don't mind too much. I just wanted this to be a surprise. And if you're still mad, I made these." I say, pointing behind the crock pot full of soup.

"You didn't." he says, smiling widely.

"But I did." Eggrolls. Now these were hard. I had to carefully mince up all the ingredients and mix them thoroughly, and then wrap them up in a special rice paper. After that it was just a matter of deep frying them.

"Why'd you do all of this?" he asks.

"Well, like I said, I thought it would be nice to come home to a nice meal. And besides, it's almost the end of our first week in college! I would have done something tomorrow, but I wouldn't have time."

"Hmm, then how about tomorrow I take you out for dinner?" he suggests. "I know a couple of nice places around here, my treat."

Dinner? With him? Alone (relatively speaking), in a public place? This sounds suspiciously like a date . . .

"Y-You don't have to-"

"Don't give me any of that crap." He says sternly, interrupting me. "You didn't have to cook all of this, did you? Just take the free food."

"W-Well, ok." I say meekly.

"It's a date!" he says happily. Oh gosh, he just said date. Is it strange that my heart's beating faster? I think I should go get that checked out. "Now let's eat, I'm starving."

We quickly dig into the food, both of us apparently starving. And during the whole time we ate, I couldn't help but feel like a love struck school girl.

A date, with Chris! What would it be like? Romantic? Awkward? I guess only time will truly tell.

* * * *

I sit on the bed in silence, wondering how he had homework on the first week of college, but then remembering that this wasn't just high school anymore, and we didn't have that sort of luxury anymore, such as easing into a class. Ah, I miss those days so much.

I watch on as he writes on with his pencil, his face a solid mask of pure concentration. I was entranced by the sight, as if the way he did this act of "writing" so much different than anyone else. If you thought about it, writing was an amazing task. You had to grip the pencil in your hand and drag it across the page, making seemingly random lines into legible words and taking those words and forming sentences. It was amazing, in that perspective. I also found it strange how he could manage to put so much effort into his work, each stroke of his pencil a small ode to his determination and endurance. I guess it was another reason I liked/loved him. He seemed to take things head-on, no matter what.

Suddenly, he slams down his pencil right on his poor, innocent desk, shattering the once thick silence. Crap, did he notice me staring at him like a creeper?

"Damn it!" he shouts out. "I just can't get this shit!"

"I-Is something wrong?" I ask, still a bit scared.

He relaxes in his chair, letting out a tired sigh. "Sorry, it's just that I can't seem to get this one problem. It's really starting to piss me off."

I walk over to his desk, curious on what had gotten him so angry. I glance down at his working space and immediately notice something. surrounded by the paper he was working on was countless notes on the subject, and the book open to the chapter as well. On his paper, there was a flurry of scribbles and notes on it, reminding him of one thing or another, as well as crossed out answers.

He was really giving his all for this, I was impressed.

"Um, I think I can help." I say shyly.

"Really?" he asks, hopefully.

"Y-Yeah." I say. I point to the problem he was working on. "You have the right idea as far as the set-up for the equation goes, but some of the numbers you're putting in are a bit off. Over here, you accidently, moved a decimal place And over here, your conversion's a bit off. In all honesty, I'm actually surprised that you noticed your answer was off."

It did seem strange to me. The change from the actual answer and his answer was miniscule, yet he was able to detect that something was off. Heh, that actually suits Chris very well.

"Huh, you're right!" he says, working out the problem with the correct numbers. "Can't believe I didn't notice . . ."

"They were really small errors." I say. "After doing a problem, you should double check the numbers you put in, since you have the equation set-up down."

"Thanks for the help, Ken. I really appreciate it." he says, smiling warmly at me. I blush a bit, not entirely used to praise. "Now I just have twenty more to go."

"Um . . . if you want, I could help by checking your work as you go." I suggest.

He looks at me, both happy and surprised. "You're really willing to help me?"

"W-Well, yeah. After all, we're friends . . . right?" I ask, a small part of me still looking for the reassurance that we actually were.

"Yeah." He says in a much less happy tone than before. "Friends."

Ok, I think my heart just shattered. What was that supposed to mean?! He said we were friends before, right? I mean, we hung out, we ate lunch together, we even laughed at cheesy movies together! But . . . did that really make us friends? What if it was all just in my head? What if he was using me, and when he was done, he would just throw me away? What if-

"You ok, Ken?" Chris asks, obviously concerned.

"Hmm?"

"You know that we're friends, right?" he asks, realizing what was bothering me so much. I nod slowly in response, still confused. "Look, believe it or not, I'm not using you. I'm sorry if I implied anything different."

I was still a bit doubtful, despite the touching words. I look down to him and see . . . admiration and . . . appreciation? I feel my doubt slowly melt away, being replaced by a warm feeling of trust and faith that I had for him. I don't know why, but I knew he wasn't lying to me, I could trust him.

I flash him a smile. "I know we're friends, and I'm grateful for it." I say. He smiles widely at me, making my heart melt a little. His smile . . . it was kind, innocent, pure. And it made me incredibly happy to see him direct that smile at me. I felt like I could live on just that smile. I felt that I could live happily with just him.

Man, that's sappy. We quickly get back to work, me kind of hugging him from behind, hanging off his back with my arms around his neck for leverage. It was so I could continue to help him while resting my chin on his shoulder, but I'll admit that I enjoyed the extra contact.

He finally got to the last question, looking at it with a fiery determination in his eyes.

He places his left paw over my two smaller ones that were simply lying on his chest, rubbing them absent mindedly. I blush a bit at the contact, secretly loving the rough and abrasive texture of his paw pads.

"Oh, sorry." Chris says, realizing what he had been doing. "Sometimes my hands fidget with the closest object to me when I'm thinking."

"I-It's ok, whatever helps you think, I don't mind it much." I say, holding onto him a bit tighter while he continues to rub my paws gently. He was so warm and comfortable. I wish we could just stay like this forever.

"Hmm . . . so is it . . . like this?" he asks, working out the problem.

"Perfect." I say, secretly disappointed that he had finished so quickly. I let go of him as he closes his book and puts away all his papers, leaning back and letting out a tired breathe.

"Fuck, thanks for all the help, Ken. I really appreciate it." he says, rubbing the tired out of his eyes.

"No problem, not like I had anything better to do." I say, stretching a little, myself.

"Well, now that that's done, time to head off." He says, standing up.

"O-Oh? To where?" I ask.

"A party. One of my classmates apparently lives directly below, and he invited me to his party. He's kind of a frat boy."

"Oh, well have fun." I say, trying to hold back from asking if I could come. I mean, we weren't attached at the hip, and he was probably looking for some alone time. Suddenly, he grabs my paw and starts pulling me towards the door. "Whoa there, where we goin?"

"To the party, of course!" he says excitedly. "Did ya think I wasn't going to ask if I could bring a friend?"

"Wait, s-so-"

"Yup, you're coming along!" he says, flashing that excited smile again. "What, nervous?"

"Um, w-well I've never really been-"

"Wait a sec!" he says, making me freeze in my tracks. "You've never been-"

"Yup."

"-To a stranger's apartment?!" he shouts in shock.

". . . Well yes, but I was going to say to a party, I've never gone to a party." I say, clarifying for him. He looks back to me, simply staring thoughtfully.

"Me neither." He says, smiling bashfully.

"Really?" I ask, wondering how it was that he wasn't one of those stereotypical jocks who went to all the parties and got tail every other second.

"I've never really been the partying type, to be perfectly honest with ya." He says. "But I decided that once I got into college, I would try new things, and a party's on my list."

"Sounds fun." I say, a bit nervous. Sure, this guy had no problem into diving headfirst into new experiences, but . . . how would I fare?

Still, he drags me along, his tail wagging madly in excitement. Wish I could be as happy as him. I couldn't help but feel nervous, like a metal ball just suddenly formed in my stomach, and it was getting heavier every second, weighing me down more and more with each step I took. I could feel my mind grow foggier as well, each thought of what might go wrong sticking to me and slowly snaring me in some kind of trap, like a spider's web. In simpler terms, I felt like I was going to be sick.

We run down the stairs of the building, me being careful not to miss a single step. I really didn't feel like falling to my death any time soon. Although . . . I'm sure Chris would catch me, hold me safely in his arms, gently scold me while hugging me tightly, telling me to be careful.

Oh hey, when did we get here? I look in front of us, finding a single door. I listen closely, picking out the music that had just barely gotten past the heavy sound proofing in the walls. Some kind of new rap song about a guy and his money and "bitches". Ridiculous to think that social standards these days are still denoted by how attractive your partners are and how many you have, as well as how much money you can waste.

He opens the door, and time seems to just . . . stop. And not in the good way. I look into the spacious room filled to the brim with countless people, all their eyes locked on us. I feel myself freeze, my mind automatically going to the images of my dream, of the ones locked deep into my minds yet always coming back as dark fear. Now, with all that fear coming back at me like hurricane, there was only one thought left on my mind that I could actually comprehend. Run.

I turn back to the stairs and bolt, just trying to get out of there, as if it would alleviate the strange pressure on my chest that seemed to make my heart want to burst out of me. I keep running, even with my ears planted flat against my head and my tail firmly between my legs, I just keep going, even choosing to ignore the seemingly muffled voice of Chris shouting at me to wait. I couldn't stop, I just couldn't. Not until I was out of there, not until I was alone. It was only alone that I could sort out all my thoughts, without the piercing gaze of others on the back of my neck. Ironic, now that I think about it. The little boy who wanted to be with others can only think clearly by himself.

I burst through the door of the apartment, making a small side note in my head of how we had forgotten to lock it. Finally back in our room. I run to my bed and climb on, wedging myself firmly into the corner, since my bed was up against 2 walls.

My back presses into the corner, my body naturally following suit by going into a sitting fetal position, with my head buried in my arms. I don't sob or anything. Heck, I wasn't even that sad. It was all just . . . overwhelming. I just sit there, trying to push everything out, quietly whispering to myself that it was ok, everything was fine.

I hear them, faintly, the heavy paws walking towards me, but it's like my brain can't process it. Like the messages my ears were sending to my brain were just left unread, simply sitting there, ignored. Heh, kinda like me.

Suddenly, I'm wrapped up in a warm hug. It was gentle, as if the person giving it was scared I would snap in two, yet it was still warm, with love and care laced into the simple gesture. Whoever it was, they were large and strong. It was probably Chris. Who else would it be? Slowly, I turn around in his arms, filled with shame of how I was acting.

"I . . . I'm sorry, Ken." Chris says quietly, the same fear that I would shatter into a million pieces dominating the volume of his voice. Or maybe it was that he was scared that he himself would shatter. "I shouldn't have forced you to go."

I open my eyes, noticing for the first time that the lights weren't on, the only thing lighting up the room was the pale moonlight, managing once again to sneak past the curtains and the shutters.

"It wasn't your fault, you didn't force me to do anything." I say, just as quietly as he spoke. "It's just . . . when I saw all those people . . ."

He tightens his embrace, and I lean back into it, breaking my fetal position. He had such a comfy hug, but you wouldn't guess that at first with how he was built. The guy was like a behemoth, but not like a steroid junky behemoth. More like . . . I don't know, I'm too confuzzled to describe it. He had definition and muscles, but they were packed tight; there. I have to admit, going on the whole tangent of describing Chris has calmed me down a bit.

I . . . I guess I owe him an explanation now. Plus . . . I'd like someone to listen. "Can I tell you something?" I ask him, nervously.

"Of course." He says, licking one of the ears that were pressed hard against my head, making it flick.

"The . . . the reason why I freaked out is . . . well it started when I was about seven." I say, struggling to find the words that would go well together and tell what I wanted to show. "That was around the time that my 'World Atlas' started to develop. I didn't have much control over it back then, though it wasn't nearly as strong as it is now. But because of my lack of control, it was always active."

"What does 'World Atlas' do, anyway?" he asks.

"It's an ability that basically allows me to read the momentary thoughts of people around me, meaning that any thought being thought at that moment, I can read. And that was the problem. People . . . they called me evil, a freak, devil child, all because I knew what they were thinking, because I could find out their secrets. It was name calling and throwing stuff from the kids, but as I grew . . . it changed. They just kept away from me, giving me these hateful glares. Even the teachers. The thing that hurt the most . . . was being alone, totally isolated from everyone else."

"W- . . . what about your parents?" he asks nervously.

"They . . . they kept away too. To be honest . . . I don't think they ever cared about me. To them, I was their mistake, a gamble they took and lost. They just wanted to make sure that I got good grades and was going to make some cash for them in the future, best of a bad situation I suppose."

There was a silence, as I took a brief pause. Listening to it, I didn't think it was all that bad, my situation. But it still really hurt, knowing that for so long, I was some inconvenience, some mistake that everyone wanted gone.

"But . . . everything changed when I got here." I say, continuing my thought out loud. "You . . . you were my first friend." I say, my voice cracking a bit.

I snuggle back into him. It felt so . . . so right to be with him, so safe, so . . . perfect. I feel his arms wrap around me just a bit tighter, just a bit firmer, holding me lovingly and protectively. It seemed so strange how such a big guy like him could be so gentle. So sweet. I remember when I first saw him. I almost pissed my pants. Now it seemed so different. It's . . . it's been so long since I just leaned against someone else like this. For my whole life . . . was I always this alone? So alone that something like a hug like this is strange to me? Man that's sad. But enough sad thoughts for now. I just want to focus on this for now, the feeling of his warm body pressed against mine, and just . . . for a little while . . . pretend we were together, and that when morning came, he wouldn't be just a friend, and that I meant something more to him.

"Stay for a little while longer?" I say desperately.

"I'll always be here." He says softly. I let the rest of the tension flow away from me, choosing to just let myself go with the warm body holding me.

Suddenly, something wet and warm runs down my cheek. I open the eyes that I hadn't even known had closed and see that they were foggy with tears.

I want to wipe them away and just hide again, but I don't. This time, and probably this time only, I won't care if he sees me like this. I'll cry since I've never been able to before. I'll trust him with my weak side, but I'll always try to be my strong side when I could.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? He asks, gently stroking my cheek.

"S-Sorry, it's just (sniffle*) . . . I've been alone for a long time and . . ."

"Don't worry, I'll be here for you now. I won't let you be alone anymore."

I . . . I don't know why, but I was incredibly happy at those words. It seemed to warm me up from the inside out.

I turn in his embrace once more, burying my face into his chest, silently crying the tears I left unshed for so long, tears being shed for no reason other than being alone for a long time. To have no one . . . it's a pain that usually goes looked over, underestimated. But it's one of the most painful of all. To belong nowhere, to be wanted by no one, to be alone in your world yet to long for some kind of interaction. It was a terrible feeling.

He leans back, pulling me with him, lying down on the bed and letting me lie on top of him.

I feel his chest rise and fall slowly with each breath he takes, his beating heart pumping blood through his system at a leisurely pace. Gosh that's a wired way to say it, but then again, I'm not exactly normal. He still hugs me, holding me close to him, as if I was a teddy bear and he found comfort in me, though I probably found much more comfort in him.

I feel him shift once more, making me grumble a bit as I felt my soft bed being taken away from me. Next thing I know, I'm being carried in his arms as he begins to stand. What is it, bridal style?

"W-What's going on?" I ask tiredly. I didn't think I would start falling asleep so quickly.

"We're taking a shower." He says, grinning toothily down at me.

"What?!" I exclaim, now wide awake.

"We didn't take one today, and I almost fell asleep. And I can't sleep without taking a shower first. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people not taking daily showers, when they can, no problem."

"Well, y-you can just call me in once you're done!"

"Nope." He says bluntly.

"W-Why not?" I ask nervously.

"Because you asked me to stay with you." he points out.

"W-Well, yeah, b-but-"

"No buts, except yours and mine, since we'll be naked." He says, interrupting me. "Don't worry, I won't do anything inappropriate, just help you wash your back."

"What?!"

"What? It's only your back, not your dick or anything. Man, straight guys can be so touchy."

"Actually I'm-"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it before. You don't have any problems with gay guys, but when it comes to a little touch, it's all red lights and alarms."

"Hey! I don't have any problems touching guys!" I say, momentarily forgetting about the whole sexuality problem at hand.

"Oh really?" he says teasingly, smirking smugly. "Cause I think you do have troubles touching other guys."

"Wanna bet?" I say, trying my best to sound confident.

"You're on." he says, grinning evilly. Shit, what did I just do? "What're the stakes?"

"One free favor for the winner, no questions asked." I say confidently. Seriously, what the fuck kinda shit was I getting myself into?! You can tell how nervous I was about the situation from my slightly uncharacteristic cussing. Oh hey, we're in the bathroom! When did this happen . . .

He growls at the thought of one free favor from a cute little collie, (or at least I assume so) making me blush. "I like the sound of that."

He places me down on the floor, then quickly starts to strip. I could feel myself blushing furiously as well as drooling just a tiny bit from the sight of him shirtless.

He stops right at his boxers, which had quite the bulge. He looks at me expectantly. "Well? You gonna strip? Can't take a shower wearing clothes."

Oh I beg to disagree. "O-Oh, Right." I say, turning away from him and taking my own clothes off. I try to be slow, extremely reluctant to be fully naked with someone else, especially since that someone was a furry Adonis. Crap, how's this gonna turn out?'

* * (Perspective change, Chris Alatrion) * *

Damn, why does that guy have to be so freakin' seductive?! I watch him hungrily as he strips off his clothes slowly, his tail twitching nervously and his ears pressed flat against his head. I could see all of his upper body fur now, being mostly white, with blotches of black fur over a few places. You know, the basic collie fur pattern.

There was a patch of black fur on his right ear, both his shoulders, lower back, and thick bands wrapping around his wrists and lower ankles as far as I could see. It was hard to see much of his fur, since he always wore long sleeved shirts that seemed just a little too big, and baggy pants. They seemed to both hide his body, and accentuate the fact that he had a lean and skinny build, if that made any sense. Well, I was always good at knowing how people were built, even through thick clothing.

Oh shit, the real shows starting. He finally takes off his baggy pants, bending over to pull them off and inadvertently showing off his cute little ass.

I could feel myself drooling, wanting nothing more than to just pounce on the pup and eat his ass out until he cums all over himself. Damn, this is the first time I've ever met anyone who actually turned me on so much.

He glances at me, his blush somehow visible through his fur now. He turns away quickly, his ears turning red and flicking wildly. Wonder why.

* * (Perspective change, Ken Escreed) * *

Oh fudge, my face is burning up. I glance back, hearing low growls from Chris, and what do I see? I see him naked as fudge! Naked like only boxers? No, naked as in his dick was hanging out, naked! He was already half-hard in his sheath from what I saw, and to be honest, the sight turned me on like no other.

My hands go down to my crotch, instinctively trying to cover myself up from the embarrassing gaze of Chris. In all honesty, I barely know anything about this certain . . . area. Sure I took basic health class and they told us about having safe sex and about putting a penis into a vagina (giggles ensue), but other than that . . . I'm lost. I know this is called an erection, otherwise known as a boner, hard-on, and stiffie (all this, again from romantic novella). Of course, past that is kind of unknown area.

I slowly slip of my briefs, painfully aware that this was my last piece of clothing before nothing but fur. You know what they say, save the genitalia for last. Or was it best for last? Oh, wait, I also know the names for genitalia! That counts for something . . . right?

"Ok, l-let's get in." Chris says, voice shaking a bit. I don't know why he's so damn nervous, he's sexy as heck! I turn around and . . . and . . . oh fuck. Chris was fucking huge!

Damn, I can't believe this is happening. Why do I feel so hot? I quickly get into the shower, quickly followed by Chris. It was a kind of small shower area, so we were just about constantly brushing up against each other. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the fur on fur contact.

After a bit of shuffling to get a more comfortable position. Chris reaches forward and turns on the faucet, letting a fast shower of water fall on us.

We both shiver a bit from the initial cold of the water, but relax as it quickly turns warm. A plus of living here on the island was that they had really good plumbing and temperature control. Among other things, of course.

"O-Okay, let's do this." I say, nervously.

"You know, if this makes you uncomfortable, we can just call the bet off."

"No", I say sternly. "I made this bet, and I'm gonna follow through."

He looks toward me, his ears red, but a smile on his muzzle like he was impressed by my resolve. "Okay, then. First, let's set some ground rules. I'll wash you first, all of you, then you'll wash me. If you can make it through both of these events, then you'll win the bet. Agreed?"

"S-Sounds good." I say, shivering a bit. Anxiety, or excitement? I don't know this time. He grabs a small bottle of fur shampoo, the one I used since I had a long coat, and pours a bit onto his paw. He lathers his hands together for just a moment, then places those big, calloused hands on me.

He starts with my head, gently rubbing it into my fur, then slowly making his way down, spending extra time on my collarbone fluff. It always bothered me, but I guess I just had to deal with it. He continues rubbing the soap into me, eliciting a few unintentional murrs of pleasure from me. He keeps going, along my flat, unimpressive chest, moving towards my equally unimpressive back, and then so on and so forth. As he went along, he made a few gropes here and there, but I was probably just imagining the whole thing. This was a bet, not some hot shower scene from some smut story that I never got to read. I always meant to, though. I heard Fifty Shades of Gay was pretty good. Stupid copy right laws making me paranoid. Wait, where did that come from?

He draws me in closer, allowing the spray of water to wash over my fur, taking the soap and grime from the day with it.

Soon enough, he reaches my lower areas, taking my (thankfully) limp sheath into his paw, his other one working on my lower back.

He pulls back my sheath, making me gasp as my flaccid dick was revealed from its furry pouch. Gosh that feels good. Is it supposed to feel good?

He looks up at my face, but then quickly back down to the task at hand. Maybe he was making sure I was ok. He slides a finger into my sheath, eliciting a surprised and oddly high pitched moan.

"Sorry, but you'll have to bear with me for now." He says, wiggling his finger in my extremely sensitive sheath, making me shiver and moan quietly from the strange sensations running through me. "You have to constantly clean your sheath. Despite having an improved resistance to many diseases, werebeasts still have to take these precautions and be totally hygienic."

I felt myself getting harder, which just make me squirm even more. Shit, this is so embarrassing! Suddenly, I feel him grip my tail with his other paw, making me yelp at the strange feeling. Okay, so rock hard with a finger teasing my sheath and him stroking my tail at the same time. I was honestly impressed how I was still standing up at this point. Hopefully, he doesn't do anymore. I don't think I can last too long if he does.

Suddenly, he stops fingering my sheath, instead, gripping my cock and firmly stroking it

"Ahh, what're you-" I try to say between the moans, then glance down. I doubt he could hear me, being so far into it.

"Don't worry." He mumbles. "Just wanna make you feel good."

I could feel his paw slowly let go of my tail, dropping down and now running his fingers through my crack, his claws ever so lightly running over my tail hole. I had no idea of what he was doing, but I know I definitely wanted more. I moan a bit louder, and Chris probably heard it, since he went from just running his fingers over my tail hole and now slowly rubbing his fingers directly onto it.

"Ch-Chris, don't stop, please." I say, lust and desperation clear in my voice. Abruptly, he slides a finger into my tail hole. Luckily, it was one finger, and it didn't hurt too much, except the sharp pain at first, but it felt so weird wiggling in me like that, making me moan as he touched some of my most intimate areas. He presses hard against some spot inside me, making me feel as if a pint of pure ecstasy (not the drug) was shot through me in that one area, making my knees buckle and forcing me to grab onto him.

"Ahh, Chris!" I moan out, the strange and intense sensations sweep me away. I could feel my body convulse in pleasure in that one instant, making my dick throb and threatening to make me go insane from all of what I was feeling. He keeps going, as if to lengthen this state of bliss that shook my entire being last as long as possible.

Finally, the waves of pleasure die down, leaving me panting and tired as I move away from Chris and instead lean against a wall. Chris slowly takes his paws off of me, looking down in my direction. I would say he was looking at me, but I couldn't be sure. His eyes were glazed over in lust. No, even in lust, he was still looking at me, he didn't consider me some play thing, or anything.

Although, he did have a stupid grin on his face, as if he could feel what I was feeling.

"You ok?" he asks.

"Fuck, better than ok." I say, not even caring that I had cussed. "Okay, now your turn." I say, grabbing his shampoo and struggling to stay upright. For some reason, my legs were shaky.

"Wait, I still need to do your legs."

"That can wait." I say, dreamily, still caught up in that moment of bliss.

"Wait! Then let's get the rest of the soap off you, at least." He says, dragging me into the spray of water once again, scrubbing lightly at my sensitive member while washing away the soap. "Okay, now you can start." He says, smiling at his handiwork.

I put a large glob of soap into my paws and start off much like he did. I did, however, take my time enjoying those chiseled pecs of his. And then his well muscled arms and back, and don't even get me started on those wash board abs. But I had a different target in mind. I wasn't sure why, but I was excited to get to his cock. I felt a strange hunger for it now, a lust that felt insatiable. Maybe this is what Chris felt when washing me up, and if that was the case, then he'd understand if I had a little bit of fun with him. I'll show him who the gay one his around here. Man, did I really just say that?

I blush a bit, suddenly realizing that I was being such a pervert right now. But did I really care? I listen closely as I work, idly rewashing places I had already been to in case I had missed a spot. According to my large friend, I was doing a fairly good job, if the murrs and growls indicated anything. And it wasn't an angry growl, but a pleasant one, a dominant one. There was a distinction, though I guess it's a dog thing.

* * (perspective change, Chris Alatrion) * *

Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that. You're doing just fine. He continues rubbing soap into my fur, his paws working firmly, yet gently.

Feeling him touch me all over like this, I honestly didn't think it would feel so good, but with those nimble paws at work . . . damn he's good.

I look down at him, a dreamy expression probably smeared across my face. He was slowly inching his way toward my sheath, not trying to intentionally tease, but more likely that he wanted to do a thorough job of cleaning me. Heck, maybe he was trying to think of how to do this. I mean, after all, he's straight. He probably feels awkward about having to touch a guy's dick.

I could see him blush profusely as he stares at my sheath, noticing I was already hard. I grin a bit, being slightly an exhibitionist myself. I always thought that my body was nothing to be ashamed of, and definitely not my cock. If people want to stare, then they have every right to. But him staring made me a lot more excited than usual.

He tenderly reaches down, one paw firmly gripping my cock, the other scrubbing my sheath. He gently slides his finger him, making me shiver. One of my favorite things had to be sheath play. I could feel myself throb at the feeling of his gentle paws working me up, making me feel all hot and bothered. Guess he was a lot more ok with touching dick than I thought. Not that I'm complaining.

I lean my back against the cold tile, ignoring the frigid cold of the tile piercing through my fur. He leans in closer to me, panting with his eyes glazed over, now moving both paws from my sheath to my actual dick.

He starts stroking me firmly, using both hands to jack me off. Honestly, I was happy with my size, being a solid ten inches. It was nice.

Ahh, fuck. He's pretty good. I glance down and see that he moved one paw down to my furry balls, rolling them in his paw, though they didn't exactly fit. That was another thing I was pretty proud of, my ball size. And it made sense that they were big since I came so frickin much. That fact about me was a bit less enjoyable. Clean-up was a bitch.

I let out a loud moan as he works, leaning closer and closer to me, as if he was drawn to this seemingly taboo act. Damn, why is it always the straight guys who get to me?

"D-Don't stop." I say, growling lustily. "G-Getting . . . close."

I feel my dick throb in his paws, my breath turning into desperate panting, my heart beating faster and faster, and my brain turning into mush by those talented paws attached to what I had to admit to be one of the most attractive bodies I had ever seen. He wasn't muscled, but he was flat, lean, kinda normal in that sense. The fact that he wasn't your typical muscle jock, or some borderline anorexic twink really brought a kind of real feeling to him, and I really liked that about him.

I could feel the familiar pressure rise up from within me, the paws that worked so hard to make me feel good creating a strange electrical sensation that seemed to run through me, straight from my cock, making me shiver in pleasure.

I start to buck my hips into him, my whole entire being feeling as if it was lit on fire, and I was slowly burning up in the best way possible, speaking metaphorically, of course.

"Yeah, just like that." I growl, now just thrusting. "Please . . . let me cum."

At those words, he squeezes my member harder, pumping it faster than ever. His paw that was messing with my balls before, now moving it to my knot, squeezing it tightly, almost to the point that it hurt!

"Ahh, fuck!" I scream out in agonizing ecstasy, feeling the strange new sensation bring waves of pleasure washing into me, wracking my whole body in borderline painful bliss. I convulse and spasm, thrusting harder and faster into his paws, loving every second of this. I feel the orgasm that I had been trying to hold back for so long come rushing forth, making me yell out in pure bliss.

I could feel the cum shoot out of me, each spurt bringing untold and sinful pleasure. With all the different feelings running through me, it took every ounce of willpower not to just give into feral instincts and muzzle fuck Ken until I stopped cumming.

He keeps working at my member diligently, leaning in and letting the spurts of cum even land on him.

"Ahh, K-Kendrick!" I moan out, surprised that I was still cumming, but the strong sensations getting even more intense now. I bring up my arms, trapping Ken close to me, hugging him hard and humping into him lightly as my whole body shook in pleasure. Oh god, is this ever going to end? Wait, did I even want it to end?!

He squeezes my knot, moaning along with me as each spurt of cum hits him, covering a lot of his chest fluff, the underside of his muzzle, and his stomach fur, not to mention a bit of it dribbling down to his own swelling sheath. Oh fuck, seeing him doing this to me made it so much harder, and him being slowly covered in cum didn't hurt.

After what seems like an eternity of bliss, or for the more exact, about 20 spurts of cum later, (Werebeasts were extremely productive, since nature was telling us we should have sex and mate, which I was perfectly fine with) I finally stop cumming, my cock now simply dribbling out cum lazily, a spurt still coming on every now and then. I loosen my grip on Ken, now staring at him, my mind foggy from the intense orgasm. So far, the most intense one of my life.

I was panting, my face burning up, but so was his. I felt like I should say something, yet no words needed to be spoken. I just had to stare deeply into those eyes of his. Those strange, warm brown eyes of his, brimming with innocence. Without thinking, I lean in, indulging myself in the thought that I had tried to push away so many times already.

I plant a soft kiss on his muzzle, our lips gently touching, and my paws holding him close, one on his back, the other cradling the back of his head.

I love him.

* * (Perspective change, Both Chris and Ken) * *

(Ken) (Chris)

It was strange. It was strange.

As if the moment our lips touched, As if the moment our lips touched,

Time . . . stopped.

As if for the first Time in so long, As if for the first time in so long,

all I ever wanted, all I ever lost,

Just suddenly . . . appeared right in front of me.

As if everything I fervently wished for, As if everything I fervently wished for,

All my dreams and wishes upon that lonely star

All those prayers to a god I barely believed in

As if all those stray thoughts in the wind . . . As if all those stray thoughts in the wind . . .

Were finally heard, were finally answered, were finally given, were finally true.

And it was in that moment . . .

That I realized, That I realized,

I fell in love with him. Not some crush, not some lust, but in love.

It seemed like we just met, It seemed like we just met,

But for the first time, in a long time, I was . . . But for the first time, in a long time, I was . . .

Happy,

Content,

Thankful,

Everything I hadn't felt in so long.

So long that I had almost forgotten . . .

And for the first time, in a long time, And for the first time, in a long time,

I could laugh, I could laugh,

I could smile, I could smile,

I could love.

All this, from a All this form a

Gentle giant Kind munchkin

So caring, so considerate, So innocent, so giving,

So warm and loving. So warm and loving.

And in this moment, I knew, And in this moment, I knew,

All the crap life put me through, All the crap life put me through,

Has been leading to this single moment. Has been leading to this single moment.

For my whole life, I've been waiting for this person to come and save me.

* * (perspective change, Chris Alatrion) * *

I pull away from the kiss, slowly, a small (more like gigantic) part of me wanting to just stay that way forever. "S-Sorry, I got caught up in the moment." I say, apologizing for the stupid move I made. Then again, if I had a chance to redo all this, I would do it again and again. "You're surprisingly good at that."

"Th-Thanks, and it's ok, I didn't mind the kiss too much." He says, just a bit dazed. He glances down between us. "What is this stuff?" he raises his paw, almost completely covered in my own cum. He brings it to his mouth and tentatively licks off a large glob off.

"No!" I shout out. Oh god, did he just . . . did he just . . .?!

He smiles a bit. "Tastes nice, kinda sweet."

"Th-That's cum!" I say, shocked. I wasn't disgusted by any means, but knowing that he didn't know what the stuff was, it was like the ultimate betrayal to him!

"Cum?" he asks, tilting his head like a cute little puppy. Oh god, why do you have to be so adorable?!

"Y-You know, that stuff that comes out of your dick when you jerk off . . ."

". . . What's 'jerking off'?" he asks. "S-Sorry for asking, but I've never done anything like this before."

Oh. My. Gawd! I took his innocence! I may not be too religious, but please, Jesus have mercy. "O-Ok, um, 'jerking off' is a form of masturbation, what we were just doing to each other, and cum is ejaculatory fluids."

" . . . Wait, this is semen?!" he says, surprised. "There's so much!"

"Y-Yeah, I tend to cum quite a bit. . ." I say, feeling really embarrassed.

"Wow." He says, innocently licking off another glob of cum, smiling to himself as if he was eating candy.

"What're you doing?!" I ask, secretly (and shamefully) turned on by it all.

"What? It isn't dangerous to ingest semen. Your stomach breaks it down into proteins. It's only harmful if the other person has a disease."

"What if I did?" I point out, blushing as he licks another glob.

"Werebeasts are immune to most sexually transmitted diseases, so it wouldn't matter as much. But don't worry, I'm gonna wash the rest off. It just doesn't taste as good cold." He says, smirking at me teasingly.

"O-Ok." I say. I'm glad he liked the taste at least . . .

* * * *

I hold him close to me in the small bed, gently stroking his fluffy chest fur. He was asleep by now, his breaths slow and steady as he dreamt about whatever it was that he dreamed about. I felt really tired too, but I just wanted to enjoy these moments when he was close to me. Still, that whole shower escapade really drained me, in more ways than one.

In the end, he won the bet . . . but he also won my heart in the process. I know it's cheesy, but it's true. Damn it, why did I have to fall for him? I never felt this way for anyone else before, even all those people I fooled around with. He was . . . he was special to me. Fuck, I told myself I would never do two things in life, for sure. And that was to just fool around all my life like some frat boy, never being serious about anything, and . . . falling in love with someone who could never possibly love me back. Maybe I could turn him gay! I just had to show him that . . . no, it has to be of his own accord. I can't force him to love me.

But maybe . . . maybe he would love me back. So in the mean time . . . I'll always be at his side, protecting him, and giving him the love that he may never reciprocate. I feel myself drifting off into sleep, loving how his fur was so warm and soft. Drying fur was such a bitch sometimes, but I found out a little trick. Just shift into your human form, the water trapped in the fur being left behind, towel off, and shift back. Not only does the fur remain clean and retains that sweet shampoo smell, there's also little water left, so no need for full body fur dryers.

Heh, he's snuggling closer. Damn, I'm really smitten to the little guy. Don't worry . . . I'll protect you this time. I promise. I definitely . . . won't fail this time.

* * * *

* * (Perspective change, Ken Escreed) * *

I woke up slowly, my eyes just cracking open to see that it was daytime. I tried to move a bit, but then quickly remembered where exactly I was.

So now here I am, my whole body seeming to burn up from embarrassment . . . ok, maybe a bit of it was arousal, but hey, after last night, could you blame me?

I felt him shift again, snuggling closer to me, his very obvious boner pressing against my backside a bit harder. Damn it, how do I get out of this?! Fuck, I can't think about anything other than how it would feel to have that giant cock inside me, massaging my insides in the most intimate and personal way possible. I don't even know where this is all coming from! I mean . . . last night . . . and his finger, and . . . well . . . I don't know! I just can't forget that intense feeling from him going up in there. As I recall, the only thing there that could bring about that kind of feeling was the prostate.

Thinking about it further, I'm pretty sure it would hurt like hell. B-But it felt so good, and I know he'd be gentle with me. He'd take me into his arms . . . gently kiss me, holding me close . . . it would hurt at first, but he'd go slow. He'd be just as nervous as me, probably. Oh gosh, what am I doing?! Imagining it isn't what I need right now!

I feel his cold nose press against the back of my neck, suddenly, making me shiver. He opens his muzzle, and before I can protest, takes the scruff of my neck into his maw, nibbling on it ever so lightly.

"Ahh!" I moan out in surprise, grinding back into his sheath reflexively, but only managing to wiggle them slightly since he had me in such a tight hug.

He shifts again, leaning away from me. Much to my surprise, he lets me go all together. I turn around, nervous about the sudden change in actions, only to see him stretching in the bed.

Wait a sec, don't tell me he just-

"Mmmm, fuck!" he says. "I slept like a log, it felt great!" He was asleep the whole time?! He looks at me, his ears turning a bit red. I look down at myself and notice I was rock hard.

"Crap, sorry." I say, covering myself up with the previously unused blankets.

"Don't worry, everyone gets morning wood." He says, gesturing to himself. "Besides, you don't have to cover it up or anything around me. In fact, I'd probably prefer you buck naked!" He laughs somewhat loudly for the morning, while I blush profusely.

He pulls at my blanket, a playful grin etched on his face. I let go, half feigning further embarrassment and mock annoyance. In all honesty, the thought of him pulling away my blanket and leaving me totally exposed to his hungry eyes sounded bittersweet.

I quickly regain my rational senses, however, and cover my groin area with my paws. Did I really just let go of the blanket on purpose? "C-C'mon, Chris." I say nervously.

"Right, right. Man, straight guys and nudity." He says, dropping the blanket and smirking. So . . . he still somehow thought I was straight?!

"Hey! As I recall, I won the bet yesterday." I say, a bit cocky at the thought of my victory, though it wasn't that hard of a battle.

"Y-Yeah, you did." He says, looking away and blushing, smiling bashfully. "But . . . I feel really bad."

"Why? Did I do something wrong last night?" I ask, thinking back to the whole shower event. "I did it like how you did to me, except for the finger thing."

"No, you did great! But . . . god damn it, I took your innocence!" he says, looking at me as if he had raped a pup.

"What?" I ask, curiously, but mostly confused.

"W-Well, I mean, you didn't know what jerking off was!"

"W-What do you expect?! I never got computer time, it would get in the way of my 'studies'." I intentionally left out the second part of me not ever having any friends to tell me about it, back then. It was still a touchy subject to me.

"Sure, but that still doesn't change the fact that I defiled you! Oh fuck, I took your first orgasm away!"

I let out a sigh, crawling over to him. I grab his waist in a hug, burying my blushing face into his solid chest.

"It isn't that special. And if it was, then I'm glad I lost it to you. You didn't defile me, or anything. But you did help me experience something new."

"I . . . I guess." He says, hugging me back. "Now let's go get breakfast, then get to class."

* * * *

We walk towards the front door, all our school gear on and our bellies full of food.

"Hey, we still on for today?" I ask him.

"Yeah, definitely. I got it all planned out." He says excitedly, probably going over the details in his head. "Just come straight home once you get out of class."

"I-It's a date." I say. At those words, my face starts to burn up. I glance up to Chris and see that he was having the same problem.

I felt my heart start beating just a tiny bit faster. I could feel those emotions of love rise up from me again, just as strong as they were yesterday, but not as passionate. I mean, I wasn't going to just grab him by the scruff and lip lock with him. Although something was definitely telling me to.

"Hey Chris?"

"Yeah?" he asks, looking me in the eyes.

"You owe me one favor, no questions asked, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then I want you to listen to me as a favor."

"O-Okay." He says, a bit confused.

It was like there was an ocean in me, the water being my emotions. I could feel them swell up in a storm of conflicting feelings. All the loneliness, the shame, the despair . . . all slowly fading into love. It was strange . . . how all those terrible feelings were just a step away from love. I guess it took great despair for someone to truly appreciate the kindness in the world.

"First, I'm gay." I say, watching him as his eyes get wider in surprise. "Second," I continue, leaning up, him leaning down. "I . . . I think I love you."

Then I kiss him, lightly, but just as quickly break it, opening the door and running out, my face feeling as if it was on fire.

Yet . . . I had a stupid smile on my face. After all, I was in love!

* * * *