My Name's Sake by Kinoshi

My Name's Sake

Kinoshi, Anal, Anatomically Correct, M/M, Oral, Reptile, Rimming, Short, Tiger

#2 of The Diary of Lucifer Stone

I don't exchange names.

It's not for some greater reason like "exchanging a name is a form of commitment" or "it makes things more intimate" or anything irritatingly homo as that. I don't exchange names because I don't care enough to give mine, and most people never ask.

Keith did, though. It was probably a little awkward what with his 7 inches of spent tiger meat buried nicely up my ass and his sweat dripping on me from the ends of his fur... He was a better looking hookup than I'm used to and real hot for scales. I like my sex tactile, which is why I close me eyes all the time, so I'd actually say it was one of my better lays.

I'm pretty sure his fingers or tongue touched almost all the scales on my front and the fucker actually goes down. It's kind of irritating how so few tops seem to do that, but he did. I mean, I don't really care for getting my dick sucked all that much because most people suck at it (and he did too, but bless him for trying), but the fact that he did impressed me. And then he pushed my legs up to my shoulders and started rimming me. Now that, I do enjoy. And felines have a natural advantage when doing it since their tongues are so rough. He wasn't particularly talented at it, but he went at it with a kind of voracity that lets you know he was turned on by doing it.

I'll put it this way, he did it well enough to get a moan from me. And he fingered me. He fingered me pretty well, actually. It's not often that I'm actually gripping the sheets before someone penetrates me, but it can happen. He managed to get two fingers in using just his saliva so there was plenty of friction and he even twisted his fingers a little. Hell, he actually rubbed against my prostate with them a couple times which made me shiver from the spine. In retrospect, I guess he wasn't lying about being a vers, cause I've never met a true top that knows how to prep like that.

He pushed my knees up to my chest though. I really don't care for that position, and if my brain hadn't been so sex driven, I probably would have been irritated. It's not really comfortable, if you ask me. But he did impress me be managing an unguided, smooth entry while leaning in close enough to kiss me. Slow enough to be considerate, but quick enough to show he didn't really care if it was utterly painless. Which was fine considering how well he stretched me.

No matter how many felines I fuck, I never get used to the barbs. Hell... I never even remember they're coming--oddly enough. He didn't get his surgically reduced and I could tell pretty quickly, but he lubed up very well so it's actually not painful. It's kind of like a bit of extra tingling. Anyway, it was enjoyable.

He pushed up to the hilt and stopped for like... a breath and a half. I took the hint and opened my eyes, which I guess he was waiting for before he started fucking me. At which point I let my head fall back, my eyes close again, and let the moans just come out.

I love getting fucked.

I mean. I really. Love. Getting fucked.

I really can't understand what else the dick could possibly be made for other than fucking people up the ass. I don't understand what else the ass could possibly be for other than getting fucked by a good dick. Really, it just seems so right that there can't be any other real purpose for those tools.

And he fucked me. He fucked me in that kind of way where it almost seemed like his hips were just bouncing up and down on my ass. He was only taking about half of it out, but he let gravity and his body weight do all the work for him and he drove in as deep as the angle would take him. It made the angle fluctuate a little; I could feel the times when he'd hit my spot dead on and other times where he'd miss which was pleasant in its own way.

Then he stopped for a minute at the hilt and I was afraid he had cum already. He hadn't. He took the moment to bring a knee up so that he was resting on the balls of one of his footpaws. He rolled me back a little so my ass was higher up in the air, and started fucking me again with the last three quarters of his cock. This position was a little deeper and I could feel it. It was still a little hard to breathe from this situation, but I managed for the sake of getting one of the better dickings I've had in a long time.

He kept mashing his hips into my ass so hard that I slipped into a trance where the only things I could feel were his dick inside me and his balls colliding with the base of my tail.

Then he shifted his weight back and brought my legs with him. I knew without opening my eyes that he was going for that straight up missionary where he would be sitting straight up and thrusting with just his hips. I swear it's all for aesthetics because it's not really a deep position at all. Though it makes me think of porn every time I see it.

Then the fucker told me to come for him without even missing a beat in his thrusting. It may be a little weird, but I don't really like jacking off on my back while I'm being fucked. Bad memories of bad encounters, I guess. It kinda feels just a little... too... gay, I guess. I don't know, nor do I really care. Even at the time (you know, with aforementioned 7 inches of tiger meat up my ass) I didn't really mind the request. My member had remained hard the whole encounter without even needing to be touched, and once I started jacking off, the pleasure amplified. Obviously, he wasn't going to last much longer and he wanted to see me shoot on my stomach before he shot. Which was fine because while the angle wasn't a deep one, he had his hips dropped to just the right height to make sure he kept hitting my spot (yeah... he must be a vers).

I actually cried out in that pitiful way I do when I'm really, really horny when I came. It was one of those orgasms that had even my toes locked up and I couldn't think straight. He didn't even slow down as I came either, he just kept his pace as I shot up to my chest.

I braved a look at him after it subsided to see he was just grinning down at me before he started thrusting a bit deeper and a bit faster again. He lost rhythm as he approached climax, but eh... it happens.

His roar shook my bones a little as he bred me and in my non-hazy brain, I was amused. I didn't know him, really, but the sex was good. I wasn't worried about him sticking around for a bit because I know where the weapons are in the apartment and he doesn't. So when he collapsed on top of me, still inside, I felt perfectly comfortable.

He had this goofy grin on his face though and I strained to return it with a normal looking smile. Either it was believable or his after-glow vision didn't care.

I hate small talk.

Small talk ensued.

My meds make it really difficult for me to get engaged in conversation so trying to seem interested in one on one conversations is really a chore. But I never tell them off. I'm not even that pissed this time because the sex was good.

Then he told me his name was Keith.

And I told him mine was Lucifer.

And he gave me that same look that everyone in this "not a Christian" nation gives me when I tell them that. But the sex was good so I tell him.

My father is an agnostic and my mother is an immigrant from some African "country" I never cared enough to ask about. She had always been told a legend about a miracle worker that traveled villages generations before her time that had been called "Light Bringer" in the tongue of the times. Her particular family believed that their line had been saved by this miracle worker and so it's tradition to name a son after him every few generations.

She looked through a couple tongues for how you'd say "Light Bringer" looking for one she liked the sound of and landed on Lucifer. My dad, being the upstanding agnostic that he is, "sort of gave a half-ass disclaimer" (as he puts it) but didn't object. And so here I am, Lucifer Stone.

Keith laughed a little before he kissed me. He's either open minded or not a Christian, because he fucked me again before he left that night.

I think it's kind of funny though, because the first boy I ever fucked was a Catholic.